The Extraordinary Lessons Life taught George and Felicity
by Faye Claudia
Summary: The second Wizarding War left George Weasley in shambles. The Second Wizarding War left Felicity Nott rich. A chance meeting in the Leakey Cauldron between George and Felicity leads to unexpected friendship as the two help each other rediscover who they are, and who they need to become.
1. Felicity Nott a Brief Biography

_"When you are born in a world that you don't fit in; it's because you were born to help create a new one."_  
 _~Anonymous_

At the age of seven Felicity Nott was always a sniveling mess, crying and whimpering because her parents tried to beat the magic out of her, no matter how many times she insisted that she just couldn't help it.

At eleven when her Hogwarts letter didn't come, Felicity Nott hid under her big brother's bed for a week, because her parents were furious.

By the time she was twelve, Felicity Nott was enrolled in a muggle boarding school for girls, and hated everything and everyone.

When she was fourteen, Felicity Nott was a nightmare and a terror. She was arrogant, she laughed at people who wore clothes that didn't match and made fun of the muggle girls who missed home.

But no one saw her scars, no one saw her nightmares and no one, not even the headmistress, had met Felicity Nott's family.

At the age of sixteen, Felicity Nott fell in love for the first time with a muggle boy from the village outside her school. Her father killed him out of spite.

On her eighteenth birthday Felicity Nott was ripped from her comfortable life as a muggle student by a band of grimy snatchers led by her younger brother and brought before a very pink lady with black eyes and tortured with nothing but a wooden wand and one word.

 _Cruico_

At the age of nineteen, Felicity Nott received a letter from Mafalda Hopkirk, informing her of her parents' death, her younger brother's arrest and her older brother's disappearance, which left her the only heir to the Nott family fortune.

By the time she was twenty, Felicity Nott was broken, lost, scared, alone and suddenly, very wealthy.

But Felicity Nott would be damned if she let the wizarding world know how badly they had broken her.

At the age of twenty-one, desperate and at a loss for money, Felicity gave in and accepted her inheritance, three years after she had sworn off all things magic. After a degrading and draining encounter at the bank, Felicity Nott walked into a wizarding pub against her better judgement and changed her life forever.


	2. Lesson 1

_"They're sharing a drink they call loneliness, but it's better than drinking alone."_  
 _~Piano Man, Billy Joel_

George Weasley's attentions were focused on a young woman eating alone at the back of the _Leakey Cauldron._ She was petite, probably smaller than even Ginny, with short light brown hair that was styled impeccably. Her nose was long and thin, as was her chin, and she looked very clean and put together for someone eating alone at the back of a mangy old pub.

Maybe it was the way she ate that captured his attention, George thought, as he sat at the bar watching her. She ate her food almost the exact same way Harry used to eat his food; as if he had to savor every bite, as if she might not ever eat again in her life. At the same time though, she sat very properly, with her back straight and her shoulders pulled back, her elbows never touched the table and her manners were impeccable.

It was hypnotizing to watch, George found. Especially in his half-drunken stupor.

"Give me another." George placed his empty firewhiskey glass on the sticky wooden bar. They wouldn't cut him off, he always paid his bills, he never caused trouble. Even though he drank to forget why he couldn't laugh, the alcohol didn't let him regain his smile.

How could he be happy when Fred was gone? How could he laugh when he had to run a joke shop that had been their dream, had to look in the mirror to see their face?

Theirs. Us. Ours. Them. We.

George had never thought he'd have to be singular. His. Me. Mine. Him. I.

There was a cruel irony in being a lonely twin.

"Give me some fancy liqueur, something sweet." The young woman George had noticed earlier slid a few sickles across the bar as she seated herself on the stool next to George, then added, almost as an afterthought, "Start a tab."

"I got just the thing for you, love." The barman, Tom, looked down suspiciously at her before placing a stemmed liqueur glass filled with some sort of deep red liquid in front of her.

Hesitantly, she took a dainty sip, licked her lips and smiled sweetly up at the barman. "Perfect, thank you. I always did love berries."

Tom simply nodded at her before turning his attention to another costumer.

"Got something to celebrate or something to forget?" George asked after she downed the liqueur in on gulp.

"I don't know. Both, neither." She shrugged dismissively. "Let me a have a few more and I might just tell you."

George decided he liked this woman. Up close he could see she was younger than she had tried to appear and that she had a scar sitting just above her chin that gave her bottom lip a misshapen appearance when she smiled.

"George Weasley," he grunted, a sloppy, drunken smirk curving his lips. "Resident drunk."

"Felicity," she shook his outstretched hand.

"No last name, darling?" George grunted.

"Not one I like." She shrugged and signaled for Tom to bring her another drink.

The two sat in companionable silence, drinking away their own unspoken woes.

"Nott."

"What?"

"My last name. Nott." George knew Theodore Nott Sr. and his wife had been known Death Eaters, and suddenly he saw exactly how this girl could be related to two lethal mass-murders. From her hardened, challenging expression to the downturned curve of her blood-red lips stained with berry liqueur, he found her suddenly very disconcerting.

"Like the Death Eaters?" He asked stupidly, but when she turned to face him, her hardened features relaxed into a softer expression, and her lips were no longer blood red but dark pink and pouting and she looked suddenly scared and vulnerable.

"Exactly like the Death Eaters." The vulnerability was gone as soon as it had come, and her eyes narrowed harshly. She nodded and took another sip of her drink. "Mummy and Daddy were wonderful parents. Except to their little squib." She scowled and downed the remainder of her glass.

"Oh." George mumbled, internally kicking himself for not being able to form a more coherent and sensitive answer. He wanted to care about this. Through the haze of toxin he'd willingly ingested, he tried to force himself to care.

"All their fortune was suddenly handed over to me, I have no idea why. I've a brother somewhere, a wizard no less, fancy wand and magic school diploma to boot, but they can't find the bloke. So now I'm rich. Rich with the wealth of the people who hated me." She laughed bitterly. "I've just come from Gringotts. I'd never seen that much gold in my life before today." She spat and signaled for another drink.

Somewhere in the back of George's fuzzy mind it registered that the war had ended nearly a year and a half ago, and he found it curious that she hadn't actually collected the money until now.

However, before he could voice his thoughts well enough to avoid slurring his words, Tom's gruff voice broke the silence that had settled between them.

"You sure you can handle this, girl? How're you getting home?" Tom asked.  
One look at Felicity's panicked features, and George knew that the girl had no idea,  
So he jumped in. Maybe it was a drunken impulse, or maybe there was some omnipotent force urging him towards a twisted fate.

"She's staying at mine. I'm on the couch tonight." It was a well known fact that George Weasley' shop was a success even without Fred, and luckily, the flat George stayed in was just down the street from the Leakey Cauldron, on Diagon Ally, right above his shop.

"What about you, hm? Resident drunk?" Felicity didn't seem at all bothered by George's sudden claim and when the barman had left them to their own devices again, she turned the tables on him. "Got something to forget?"

"Lost a brother in the war. Can't sleep at night, can't look myself in the mirror without seeing his face, can't face my family without seeing the look of grief in their eyes." George found that it was far easier to say that out loud when he was drunk off his arse. He could barely admit that to himself when he was sober, let alone tell a total stranger.

"Well that stinks." She remarked. "But then again, in a world as messed up as ours, what doesn't stink?" She shrugged as if there was nothing to be done about it, downed what was probably her eighth glass of berry liqueur and promptly fell asleep slumped over the bar.

"You're right there, Felicity Nott." George murmured to her sleeping form. "Life stinks."


	3. Lesson 2

_"The great thing about new friends is that they bring new energy to your soul."_  
 _~ Shanna Rodriguez_

Felicity Nott woke up in an unfamiliar bed, scared out of her wits. Sweat tricked down her forehead and her head was aching so badly Felicity wondered if she'd been knocked over the head and kidnapped.

Again.

Her vision blurry with tears from her recent nightmare, she stumbled out of the bed and and towards the door, ignoring the night sky outside the window and the rest of her surroundings. She couldn't quite manage to open the door though, and in her worried, unstable state, she panicked and threw her fists against the door, her tears now flowing freely.

George was awoken in the middle of the night from a fitful sleep to loud banging. In a panic, he grabbed his wand from his nightstand and made his way cautiously down the hallway, surprised to find the banging coming from Fred's old room.

A split second passed in which he felt utter, inexplicable fear before George remembered the young woman he'd put to bed there.

She's probably woken up and freaked out.

"Hey, hey," George opened the door to the room, only to find Felicity leaning against the bed in tears, her feet kicking at the wooden door uselessly. "Hey, it's okay, you're safe here." George was quick to kneel down beside her, but when he saw that she was only half-awake and not registering his actions, he pulled her struggling body back onto the bed, rushed into the kitchen and came back with his last vile of nightmare prevention potion. He had meant to add this to a similar concoction he and Fred had used to make Nosebleed Nougat, and market the product, but Felicity seemed more in need of nightmare relief than he ever had.

No sooner had the strange red-headed man poured the bright blue contents of the vial down her throat, Felicity began to calm down. The black robes of the shrieking dementors became nothing but flat shadows cast by a waxing moon, the silver beams of light darting about the room were simply beams of moonlight and not the shimmering essence of hexes and curses thrown at her. The hands holding her against the bed were no longer restrictive and hard, but gentle and guiding her to sit up.

"I am very sorry." The strange red head said, his sad eyes cast down in what Felicity's exhausted mind perceived as shame.

"Why? Who are you? Where am I?" She asked the questions as quickly as her mind could think to ask them.

"My name is George Weasley, we had a couple too many drinks at the pub, you passed out and I didn't know where you lived, so I took you to my place. I'm in the room across the hall, you're perfectly safe here, I promise." He spoke slowly, the way you would speak to soothe a frightened child.

"Oh, okay. So my head's not sore because I was knocked out by a beaters bat?"

George wasn't sure if to laugh or if he would be worried. "A beaters bat?"

Felicity decided this man was safe, for some reason or other. He wasn't screaming at her or hitting her, he was friendly and something about his eyes...they reflected the same pain she saw in her eyes when she looked in the mirror.

No, that wasn't right. His eyes were kinder, even through the hurt.

"Father used to use one on me after Theodore made beater on the quidditch team." She nodded thoughtfully, missing George's horrified expression. "I've never told anyone that. 'You could have been on the team too,' he said. 'You should have made us proud not brought us shame.' It was awful."

George realized very quickly that she was talking about Theodore Nott Jr., the pompous little prat who had followed the Malfoy boy around for years before joining ranks with Voldemort. He vaguely recalled him being a beater on the Slytherin quidditch team opposite Fred and him.

"That's horrible, Fel," George said, helping the young woman to her feet. "Come on, I'll make you some tea."

"I like tea, especially herbal teas. I used to work in a tea shop, you know."

"That's lovely," George told her, not quite sure what to do with her. From the looks of it, she was still suffering from the effects of her berry-flavored liqueur, but he knew that neither of them would be getting any more sleep that night.

He sat her down, as she continued to prattle on and on about her old job.  
"Her you go, darling." George set down a mug in front of her, filled with the same calming tea he drank after a particularly bad nightmare.

"This is nice, it tastes like..." She mused, tapping her finger against the wood of the table. "Lemon grass?" She guessed, looking at George for confirmation.  
"I-uh-I think so, yes."

She nodded in satisfaction and took another sip.

"I think I'm remembering things from earlier." She said after a while. "I'm terribly sorry, everything about my behavior tonight was inappropriate." She fiddled with her right ear lobe and glanced down at her tea.

"No, you have nothing to apologize for. Trust me, I'm not usually sober enough to be this chivalrous and charming." His attempt at a joke was weak, but he did realize that this was the first time he had at least tried to make one since...well. "I'm probably the one of the few who won't judge you for what happened." He winked at her, and she gave a small laugh.

"It doesn't bother you, though?" She asked.

"What? That you got drunk off your arse? 'Course not, I just told you earlier, I'm usually too drunk myself to make clear judgements."

"No I meant that...well, nevermind." She shrugged awkwardly.

"No, what were you going to say?" He put his mug down and looked her in the eyes, holding her gaze. Something in her seemed to snap, and her soft expression hardened again, her slumped shoulders straightened themselves and she put down her mug too.

"It doesn't revolt you that I'm a squib?" She asked bluntly.

George nearly choked. "No! Definitely not. I-I wasn't raised like that."

"Wasn't raised like that? What do you mean?" She asked, curious.

"Well-my family, we never agreed with the whole blood purity thing. My dad's actually very interested in muggles, and my brother's dating a muggleborn."

"But-" Felicity narrowed her eyes in confusion. "I thought everyone hated squibs. Or at least found them repulsive. 'Worse than muggleborns' that's what Mother always said."

"Well the Nott's were extremists, Felicity. Thing's have changed since the war and we're trying to get rid of those kind of mindsets."

George felt guilt flare within his chest. Truth was, with Ron and Harry working as aurors, and Percy and Hermione's work in the ministry, he wasn't actually doing anything to help build up the wizarding world. He drank alcohol and occasionally checked in with Verity to make sure that the shop wasn't collapsing. He hadn't exactly contributed much.

"Oh." She didn't say much after that, but the words of the dreadful pink woman rang in her ears.

 _"No one likes broken things, girlie."_

 _"Things like you shouldn't be kept alive, but Mister Nott thinks you know something about the whereabouts of a certain undesirable, hm?"_

Of course Felicity hadn't known where the boy Harry Potter was, and she only vaguely recalled why they would be so determined to find him. She also had never figured out her father's reasoning for believing she would know where to find him.

"I'm sorry, did I say something wrong?" George asked, shaking Felicity out of her reverie.

"Sorry, I uh, got lost in thought I guess." She gave him a faint smile. "It makes sense, actually. There are extremists in the Muggle world too, I just never thought of it that way." She mused.

"Learned behavior is usually quite hard to get rid of, actually." George offered helpfully, quoting something he'd heard Hermione say once. "You probably never questioned it because you weren't exposed to other wizards and witches much"

"You're right, actually. Learned behavior is an argument used in the muggle world as well."

George nodded and took another sip of his now cold tea. Silence lapsed between them, until Felicity worked up the nerve to ask:

"What happened during the war?" George looked up in surprise.

"I mean, I was held captive in the ministry for a few months, told that I was property of the ministry and then one day I was let go by a man who kept yelling "we've won, we've won!" Almost a year later and I receive notice of my parents' death and now I'm rich. What happened?"

"I didn't know the ministry claimed ownership of squibs, that's awful!" George resisted the urge to hug the women sitting across from him, and refrained from asking more questions about her time there, sensing that she would simply pull away. "The war itself was actually very simple, a dark wizard named Voldemort-"

"I know about him. Everyone thought he died when he tried to kill Harry Potter, but he didn't die, he came back."

"Er-yes. Yes he did, and he rounded up all his old followers and tried to take over the world."

"Oh, so your basic world-domination power hungry villain. And he hated squibs and muggleborns?"

"Yes, he took control of the ministry -as you must have realized- and for about a year we all just remained in a constant state of fear, a few attacks here and there - but then the Battle of Hogwarts happened and Harry managed to kill him, so happy endings for all." The sarcasm in George's voice did not go unnoticed.

"Happy endings never come from wars. Maybe they build a better future, but nothing happy comes from them. Trust me, I've studied enough muggle wars to know that."

"I think that's the first time I've agreed with something said about the end of the war. Everyone was celebrating that it was over and I just-"

"You lost your brother, didn't you?" She asked softly. George nodded, but he didn't dare speak for fear his voice would crack.

Noticing the tears glistening in his eyes, Felicity stood up, on impulse, and, completely unsure of herself, pulled a very confused George to his feet and into a hug. Her head collided with his chest, and his chin rested on her head, but after the initial shock of the gesture, both of them eventually succumbed to the tears that had been threatening to escape all night. George pulled her closer and buried his head in the crook of her neck while she hid her face in his t-shirt.

It was very abnormal, and very unexpected and both of them were very embarrassed, but they'd have been lying if they said it wasn't something that they hadn't known they needed until it happened.


	4. Lesson 3

_"I always liked strange characters."_  
 _~Tim Burton_

Felicity groaned as her annoying alarm blared through the stillness of the early morning.

It had been three days since her encounter with the red-haired, one-eared drunken wizard George Weasley, which meant it had been three days since she had claimed her family's inheritance.

As much as she would have loved to pretend that she didn't need or want the money, the first thing she had done was exchange enough of her family fortune for muggle money to pay the next six months of rent in advance, and pay off the last of her university fees.

Grudgingly, she rolled out of bed and shut off the obnoxiously loud alarm, then stumbled her way into the kitchen, following the enticing smell of an English breakfast being cooked.

"Morning, Jan." She mumbled in greeting. Her flaxen-haired flatmate hummed a happy tune in response and set a plate of sausage, eggs and fried tomato in front of her.

"Good Morning, 'Licity." The unusually tall girl sang. The acquisition of Janice Holt as a flatmate had been a godsend. The girl was optimistic to painful extremes, but didn't seem to care that Felicity sat contentedly on the other end of the half-full philosophy. She also didn't mind that Felicity spoke very little and when she did speak only seemed to make derogatory comments. She hadn't asked too many invasive questions when Felicity had expressed interest in living with her and was gullible enough to accept Felicity's forged papers without any background checks or phone calls to the very made-up family members she'd listed as her emergency contacts.

"Food doesn't look like it jumped out of Mordor today." Felicity commented, but Jan just laughed. It was a tinkling laugh that Felicity thought might have been endearing coming from the type of fairy one read about in Peter Pan.

"Thanks, 'Licity." She sat down with her plate opposite her. "I've been meaning to ask you, actually," Jan started, chewing her lip. Felicity cocked her head to the side, curious. She seemed unsure of how to approach her desired topic of conversation.

"Yes?" She asked slowly.

"Did you...did you pay the rent for the next six months? Because I went to pay Mr. Pepperman yesterday and he said someone had taken care of it."

"I did." Felicity answered truthfully, remaining stoic.  
"Why? I mean, how did you get that kinda money?" Jan asked, wide-eyed.

"A relative of mine just passed away and I came into some money. I figured I'd put it to good use." In truth, Felicity knew that Jan had been struggling to pay her portion of the bills and if she had had to move out then Felicity would have to find a new roommate and she doubted she's find one as easy to deal with as Jan.

"Oh, well that was very kind of you." She said slowly. "I'm sorry for your loss, were you close to them?"

"No. _They_ hated my guts." Felicity stood, her chair squeaking against the tiles, placed her plate in the sink and strode out of the room.

"I'm sorry I asked." A very shocked Jan whispered in the wake of the mysterious woman's departure, before placing her own crockery in the sink and following after her.

"'Licity! I'm sorry I brought it up, I didn't mean to pry." There was no response from behind the closed door of her bedroom. "I meant to tell you something earlier, a letter came for you." No reply was forthcoming, so Jan simply pushed the odd and unexpected letter underneath the door and returned to the kitchen to wash up.

The system the girls had settled on had been "I cook, you clean," but Jan decided that just this once, it wouldn't hurt to do Felicity's chore. After all, she had just saved her from having to pay out money she didn't have.

Felicity sat on the edge of her bed, staring at the letter Jan had pushed under the door. It was an unusual letter, not a bill or a rejection letter from yet another publishing company, but a personal letter. It was handwritten, the writing curved and the letters connected, written in ink that must've come from some type of fountain pen.

The scariest thing was that it was addressed to Felicity Nott, not Felicity Norman, the false name she had taken on shortly after her release from the ministry.

Felicity tore open the envelope, only to find the letter to be a _friendly_ letter. She didn't receive friendly letters.

 _Dear Felicity,_

 _I cannot express my disappointment at not seeing you since our interesting encounter at The Leaky Cauldron, and so I have decided to write to you._

 _I certainly hope you found our night together enjoyable, even if we spent the majority of it inebriated and sobbing our eyes out._

 _I am going to tell you something, Felicity, something I haven't told anyone, although I expect my family has already noticed this._

 _I have not attempted to tell a joke since the night of my brother's death._

 _This might sound rather bland, however, as a man who spent his childhood laughing and his school years causing mischief, not to mention as the owner of the finest joke shop in the Wizarding world, let me assure you that this is indeed a tragedy._

 _That is, I had not attempted to tell a joke until I met you. It was a pathetic attempt and I don't think you even cracked a smile, however, I do recall that it happened in the middle of the night at my kitchen table._

 _I have spent the last day and a half thinking about this, and I have come to the following conclusion. As the first person who made me want to laugh again, I cannot let you slip through my fingers. My late brother would be absolutely appalled and I refuse to dishonor his memory in the way that I have been doing._

 _So I will lay a proposal forward. I will meet you at three o'clock outside The Leaky Cauldron on Saturday the 17th of May and we will attempt to make each other smile, as -and don't try to deny this- you seem to suffer from the same illness as myself: pessimism._

 _To make this challenge slightly harder, we will do this without the use of alcohol._

 _I hope to see you there,_  
 _yours truly_  
 _George Weasley, Resident Drunk._

Felicity let out a loud groan and flopped backwards onto her unmade bed.

It wasn't that she disliked the wizard, it was just that he was ...well, a wizard. And no matter how different he seemed from the kind of wizards and witches Felicity had known, his association with all things magical made her wary of forming a friendship.


	5. Lesson 4

_"Never bend your head. Always hold it high. Look the world right in the eye."_  
 _~ Hellen Keller_

"Repeat that again, George?" Felicity's tone was challenging and cold. George had quickly figured out that her snarky attitude was a defense mechanism against anything that might make her uncomfortable.

"Why? What's wrong with your ears? You've still got both." George joked, mentally adding another mark to his tally of jokes he'd told since meeting Felicity.

That was two now marks: ||

He'd never liked condescending sarcasm, at least not when it wasn't meant in good humor. It had always been such a _Slytherin_ thing to do, so he wasn't quite sure what to think about Felicity's constant use of sarcasm and snark. He did know that it did funny things to his stomach, though.

The honey-haired woman rolled her eyes and scowled at him. "I didn't come out here to make a fool of myself."

"Neither did I, but look where we are." George flopped his hands about in a sweeping gesture.

"You George Weasley, strike me as the type of man who always makes a fool of himself." She spoke slowly, however, her eyes glinted with humor.

The two were standing in the middle of a muggle village festival of some sort. A flea market was set up that stretched across a park, a small-scale parade had just marched by, and people everywhere were dancing to the bad music that was blaring from the large speakers that had been set across the entire village square.

"Everyone's making a fool of themselves. We'll blend right in." George lifted Felicity off the ground and spun the hot-headed woman around, until she finally conceded to dance to one song.

"One song, George. That's it."

"I'll take what I can get."

The two had met outside the wizard pub as arranged, and before Felicity could ask what he had planned, George had whisked the two off to a quaint little village in the country.

Felicity had certainly not enjoyed her first apperation experience, however, she did enjoy dancing with George more than she should have. (Not that the stubborn squib would ever admit to it.)

Felicity broke her promise of only one song, and danced with George to three out-of-tune folk songs that blared so loudly from the speakers that the lyrics were indistinguishable.

As the two stumbled to a stone bench standing alone away from the chaos of the square, laughing, George created a new tally in his mind.

The amount of times he'd laughed since meeting Felicity: |

"You know George, I always hated dancing when I was at school." She stated, out of breath as she leaned back against the flat stone bench.

"That's because you were never at school with me." A smile threatened to tug at his lips.

"Oh? And why would that have made me enjoy dancing?" She raised a prim eyebrow at him, and George knew that if he were any lesser of a man, he would have kissed her downturned lips right there and then.

"Because, Felicity, dear, I was _quite_ the charmer in my youth. I practically had girls begging to go with me to the Yule Ball in Sixth Year." He boasted.

Felicity snorted. "Of course you had a _ball,"_ her voice rose, her tone imitating the posh and pretentious. "All we had were school socials that involved very sexualized dances." Her nose scrunched up in disgust, which crinkled her eyes.

"That sounds amazing," George teased, throwing an arm over her shoulders. Neither would have openly admitted it, but both of them felt their hearts jump at the action. Felicity because she had never been shown any form of physical contact that wasn't abusive, and George because he really did not know what to make of this woman.

Felicity simply scoffed and pushed his arm away.

The rest of the day went remarkably well. They ate way too much muggle food that was sold by street vendors and danced some more to the bad music.

When Felicity returned home that evening, she flopped onto her bed, her face in her pillow, her body exhausted, her mind swimming with thoughts, and her heart swirling with emotion.

What was this wizard doing to her?

When George returned home that evening, he sat on his overstuffed sofa for a long time, staring at his hands and thinking about how odd it was to feel like his old self again.

George had never believed in going to Fred's grave to talk to him. There wasn't anything in that grave save for an empty body with an empty heart.

George firmly believed that Fred's spirt lingered -if his spirit had in fact chosen to linger- in the places Fred had loved the most. Here, at Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, back at the Burrow, in the secret passageways of Hogwarts and the isles of Zonko's Joke Shop between the section displaying the dungbombs and the screaming yo-yos. Those were the places where George knew Fred had left parts of himself.

"I'm sorry Freddie," George whispered into the stillness of the empty flat. "I'm sorry you're not here anymore, and I'm sorry you can't run the shop with me anymore. I'm sorry that I'm learning to laugh without you." The heavy silence that followed was expected. In fact, it was a regular occurrence during George's many one-sided conversations with his deceased twin, no matter how badly he hoped for some kind of answer. George twirled his thumbs as he worked up the courage to say his next thought aloud.

"But I'm not sorry that I had fun today."

 _Without you_


	6. Lesson 5

_"I don't care about whose DNA has recombined with whose. When everything goes to hell, the people who stand by you without flinching- they are your family."_  
 _~Jim Butcher_

"'Licity?" Jan called from the hallway one afternoon about a week after the events in the village festival with George.

"Yes?" Felicity answered from in her bedroom where she was desperately trying to pin the short strands of her hair out of her face.

"There's someone here to see you, he says he's a friend of yours." Felicity tried to convince herself not to be offended by Jan's tone of surprise. She didn't have friends, that much was true, it was just a bit sad hearing Jan's disbelief when someone did show up.

"I'll be there now Jan. Who is it?" Felicity called, shoving one final bobby pin into her mass of disobedient waves.

"Says his name's George." Jan called, confirming Felicity's suspicions.

She hurried down the hall past Jan, and upon entering the living room, was a bit stunned to see a rather chipper looking George sitting in the centre of their patchwork sofa in a bright green casual suit. Along with his hair and the magenta shirt underneath the blazer, he was quite a sight.

"Love the colours, Mr. Weasley." She commented dryly, but George ignored her jab.

"Fel!" He exclaimed excitedly, and pulled her into a hug. It was the sort of excited bone-crushing hug that you give someone when something amazing had just happened.

"If you insist on hugging me at least do it in such a manner that allows me to breathe!" She squeaked, and he quickly let her go.

"Sorry Fel," he breathed, placing his hands on her shoulders to ensure that she really was okay. The creases of concern between his brows faded suddenly, though, and he did something Felicity hadn't seen him do, ever.

He smiled a very genuine smile.

"I've just bought Zonko's joke shop!" He told her, grinning from ear to ear.

Felicity knew what Zonko's was, and George had explained all the sentimental value the shop held for him and his late brother, without actually saying that it held sentimental value, in the manner most men were prone to use.

"That's great George!" It was her who pulled him into a hug this time, and George was quick to envelop her in his arms.

Felicity decided right then and there that George's smile was the most stunning thing she had ever seen, and that something that bright and contagious should not be kept hidden from the world. Felicity had only seen a few sad smiles and a handful of half-smiles, half-smirks from him, never a truly joyous full-on grin like he was wearing now.

"Mum's cooking a feast to celebrate tonight, she's invited to whole family. I told her not to, but she insisted, it was odd, really." George told her once they'd broken their second hug. "She seemed more excited than I was."

Felicity suspected that George's mum wasn't celebrating the successful business move George had made, but rather the return of his smile.

"That's great George." Felicity said, but her comment sounded lame, even to her own ears. She just didn't know how to talk about family stuff.

"I'm terrified." He admitted, as they sat down on the couch together. "I mean, I haven't actually seen all of them together since-" his voice cracked and a dark shadow flitted across his features. "Since the funeral."

Felicity, who had never been much for coddling, rested a hand on his knee. "Then maybe it's high time you did." She said softly. George's eyes focused on her, and his smile was softer this time.

George smiled at the woman he'd grown so fond of in the past few weeks. She looked like she wasn't quite sure what to do with his family mess, which George understood entirely. She'd never had a strong family bond with anyone. He was hoping to change that, tonight.

"Fel, I wanted to ask you, would you-would you come with me, tonight?" He asked slowly. "I don't-I don't think I can do it alone." George knew he was playing dirty. He knew that if he really had to, he could face his family on his own. He didn't really want to-but he could. They were his family after all.

He did, however, know that if Felicity knew that he didn't _need_ her there, then she wouldn't even consider coming. Something this...normal wasn't at all normal for her. She'd freak out and run, but if she thought George needed her...well then, she'd push through her own qualms.

Not because she was selfless, no. George had figured out that Felicity shared more traits with Slytherin house than she would have liked. She was fiercely loyal to anyone she decided was worth it, and would do anything for those selected few, and George was thanking whatever twisted fate out there that he was one of those few. Her roommate Jan was another one, even through she complained constantly about how annoying the girl was.

Because while George knew he could probably face his family alone, he wanted his family to meet her. He wanted them to like her and to accept her in all the ways she deserved. He wanted her to know what a mother's hug felt like and to jest with brothers -even if they weren't hers. To gossip with sisters and trust unconditionally.

That was what family was, not a bloodline. George had never wanted something more than he wanted for Felicity to know true family.

And maybe, just maybe, he wanted their approval for Felicity to become something more than a friend to him.

"George, I-" she started, but George pulled out the one card he wasn't entirely sure he should play.  
"Please, Fel, I don't think I can do it without Fred."  
That was the clincher. Felicity's eyes softened and her mouth fell into a soft little frown, her brows knit together in sympathy.

"Of course I'll come, George." And that was that.


	7. Lesson 6

_"We are afraid to care too much, for fear the other person doesn't care at all."_  
 _~Eleanor Roosevelt_

"Do we have to apparate?" Felicity asked, her eyes narrowed in annoyance.

"Of course. I have no idea how to get to The Burrow from here using muggle methods." George took Felicity's arm softy. She nodded once, and with the confirmation he needed, George flicked his wand.

Felicity clutched George's arm tightly, and rested her head against his upper arm, too short to reach his shoulder.

"I hate doing that." She groaned, and George attempted to pat her head comfortingly.  
"Don't touch me." She grumbled threateningly as his hand hovered over her head. "I will kill you." George chuckled at that and ran his hand through her hair- which she had given up on and worn loose- once. She simply growled at him.

"Come on, mum's waiting for us." He led Felicity to the front door of the old house that stood taller than any house _that_ slanted and oddly built should. Felicity could only assume magic was involved.

"Um, George-" The wizard seemed to know exactly was was bothering her, and cut her off mid-sentence.

"Relax, Fel. They won't care about any of that."  
His eyes softened and he tugged gently at her hand, intertwining their fingers. "I'm right here, I won't let go."

"Neither will I," she whispered. Satisfied, George turned and knocked on the heavy wooden door.

The woman who answered could only have been George's sister. She was young, maybe eighteen years old, and shared his vibrant red hair and radiant smile. Her beautiful face lit up when she saw who had arrived.  
"George!" She threw her arms around the man. "Congrats on getting Zonko's!"

George hugged her back briefly, never letting go of Felicity's hand, before pulling back.

"Gin, this is Felicity, she's a friend." Ginny turned to Felicity and and she knew, instinctively, that this red-haired woman in front of her was capable of more than an eighteen year old should be.

"Hi, it's nice to know George has someone to keep him company." Ginny held out her hand to shake Felicity's. The subtle undertones of Ginny's words did not go unnoticed by her.

"Well, come inside! Mum's dying to see you!" Felicity was pulled inside by George, who seemed more excited to be here than he had seemed an hour ago. As he greeted the rest of his (rather large) family, Felicity smoothed the black skirt she wore over her wool stockings, and shuffled her feet clad in lace-up black boots.

Black seemed to be the only colour she wore these days.

"Mum, meet Felicity!" George pulled Felicity forward towards a woman with greying red hair and a large smile on her face.

"So you're the famous Felicity," the woman shook her hand vigorously, and then smiled at George. "She's a bit skinny," Mrs. Weasley patted Felicity's hollow cheek.

"Well I wasn't-" George shot her a look and the snarky remark died on her tongue. She coughed instead. "It's lovely to meet you, Mrs. Weasley."

"It's lovely to meet you too, dear," she said with a smile. "Why don't you take Felicity out to the back, George, Charlie's already out there with Bill and Fleur."

"How is Fleur, Mum? Heard she was expecting again." George asked.

"Oh yes, she's six months along, so be nice to her. She's got quite a sharp tongue." Mrs. Weasley laughed lightly and pushed the two of them out the door.

"Well look who showed up to his own party!" Someone called, and a man, much stouter and shorter than George but with the same red hair and happy smile came forward.

"Mum says you bought Zonko's. Ron reckons you'll be richer than even Harry by the first Hogsmead weekend." The man laughed, then noticed Felicity. "Oh hello love, I'm Charlie, George's older brother-"

"And an absolute flirt," George grumbled.  
"Felicity," she smiled at Charlie tentatively. "I'm a friend of George's."

"Ah, well it's nice to meet yo-" the two were interrupted by a toddler suddenly pulling at Felicity's laces.

"Victorie! Victorie!" A gorgeous French woman called from where she was setting the table, and tried to run forward.

"I am so sorry, she just disappears sometimes." She reached down to pick up her daughter, and spoke in a heavy French accent.

"Oh no, Fleur! Not in your condition!" George spoke and bent over to pick up the little girl.

"Ah, thank you, George. She ees trouble." The woman laughed.

George smiled gracefully and then nuzzled his face into the girl's stomach, making the toddler giggle.

"Felicity, meet my first niece, Victorie Weasley!" He held the child up to Felicity's face, but she quickly shied away from the drooling toddler.

"Victorie, meet my friend Felicity"

"Lissy" the girl gurgled, and the small group of Weasley's laughed.

Another man with long red hair made an appearance and took the toddler from George.

"You're not trying to corrupt my baby girl, are you, George?" He asked, then politely introduced himself to Felicity.

"Sorry, forgive me, but George, just how many siblings do you have?" She asked, finally pushed over the end of her tolerance level at meeting George's third sibling.

The group laughed.

"You didn't warn her, George?" Charlie laughed, and George just chuckled.

"Mum had seven kids." Bill answered finally, bouncing his little girl on his hip.

"Seven?" She asked, eyes wide.

"Yeah, Bill here came first, but Mum and Dad didn't like him, so they had me-" Charlie started, but George interrupted him.

"And then you were a disappointment too, so they had Perce," something flickered across George's face, and the group seemed the grow uneasy. "Then myself and Fred, and then Ron came along. But they really wanted a girl,"

"So I came along." Ginny sang, worming her way into the group. "And I was perfect so they stopped after me." She laughed, and the man who had come out behind her snaked his arm around her waist.

"It's good to see you, George," he said, and pulled the man into a half-hug, never letting go of Ginny. There was something that looked a lot like a deep seeded respect that Felicity saw pass between the two men.  
"You too Harry."

"Harry? As in Harry Potter?" Felicity's eyes widened. The man was scrawny, no older than twenty, shorter than even Charlie and with his messy black hair and glasses Felicity couldn't help but think that she would've spent her childhood mocking him mercilessly if she had known him. This was the man they ministry had made such a fuss about?

The man gave a weak smile. "That's me,"

"The hero of the war!" Charlie clapped the man on the back so hard that he choked.

"Charlie!" Ginny hissed, and Harry looked aptly sheepish about Charlie's declaration. Another red head joined the conversation, saving the guy from his own embarrassment.  
"It's not like he did it all alone." He said with mock indignation.

"Relax Ron, we all know you helped save the world." George rolled his eyes. "Where's 'Mione, by the way?"

"She's explaining something to dad about that new muggle thing he found."

George turned to Felicity. "Dad's absolutely obsessed with muggles. He'd go nuts if he knew you lived as one."

Felicity gave a tentative smile, but her hand tightened around George's as his family started asking questions about why she lived as a muggle.

"Oh look! There's Perce, let's go say hello, shall we?" George escaped with Felicity in tow, leaving the Weasley's and Harry a little baffled.

As thy approached the man with the curliest hair Felicity had ever seen -which just so happened to be red as well - she realized that she recognized him.

"Oh! It's you!" She breathed.


	8. Lesson 7

" _Kindness is a language that the deaf can hear and the blind can see. "_  
 _~Mark Twain_

Felicity did not know how long she had been held captive in the Ministry during the war. She hadn't been one of those hardened prisoners that sharpened the end of a plastic spoon into a knife and marked off the amount of days with a little notch in the wall of her cell, planning her eventual escape.

In truth, she had given up. She'd been prepared to die, and had stopped eating the cold scraps that had been pushed through the bars of the cage she'd been kept in. She had been trying to die. Her life had been nothing but pain and torture from the time she'd been outed as a squib and there wasn't anything she'd wanted more than death.

Then, all of a sudden, there were people running up and down the line of cages, setting the squibs and muggleborns free and yelling that they had won the war.

The man who had let Felicity out had set her down in a corner, healed her injuries and given her muggle money.

"Go home to your family, let them know you're okay." He'd told her. Felicity had been too tired to tell him that her family didn't care.

After he'd used some kind of cleaning spell on her to make her look presentable, and then given her a chocolate bar he'd dug out of his pocket, he'd wished her well and been on his way.

It was the first time Felicity had experienced kindness from a wizard.

That man, the one who had given her a second chance was standing in front of her, holding a tiny new born child, with a stunned look on his face as Felicity clutched desperately to the hand of his younger brother.

"Hello again," the man smiled kindly.

"You know each other?" George asked, looking between the woman he'd come to understand was terrified of magic, and his brother.

"Um-sort of. He-" Felicity let go of George for the first time and walked towards Percy slowly. "He saved me from -"

"Oh," George suddenly understood. He knew that Percy had helped clean up the ministry after the war, but he didn't realize that he had also helped with the release of the prisoners.

"Um-can I-uh?" Felicity gestured to Percy, and George, understanding, took little new born Molly from her father. The two hugged, and Felicity found it rather hard not to cry.

"I never-" she swallowed. "I never said thank you." She pulled away.

"You shouldn't have to. What they did to you was awful." Percy said softly. "And I didn't do very much. I thought I'd have to take you to St. Mungo's."

"No, I was fine. It was-" she looked away. "You were kind to me. I'd given up on the world until you were nice to me." She admitted.

The rest of the evening when by swimmingly. The dinner Mrs. Weasley prepared was amazing, and Felicity worked her way into the Weasley matriarch's good graces by going back for seconds and then thirds. There were moments when Felicity felt the urge to get up and run, like when Percy's wife Audrey told the story of how she'd found out she was pregnant, and then Fleur's retelling of Victorie's first steps. The memories the brothers shared about growing up and the stories everyone had about their time at Hogwarts.

Felicity had never felt so welcomed, and so cheated.

She'd always thought of magic as evil. Dark. Painful green light and sliver glints reflected in her peripheral vision.

But the Weasley family, Felicity had never in her wildest dreams imagined something like the Weasleys. They were warm and happy and accepting. Their magic wasn't shimmering silver but deep reds and burnt golds, and it wasn't done behind her back with the intent to hurt, it was used to create a happier environment, to heal and to calm.

The line between good and evil had never seemed to clear to her before.

Gradually, members of the family started leaving. Bill and Fleur left first, declaring that Victorie had to get to bed. Percy and his wife left soon after.

"Take care of yourself, Fel." Percy told her as he hugged her goodbye. The two of them had become fast friends, much to the bafflement of the entire family.

"And you take care of Molly and Audrey." She smiled and bid Audrey goodnight.

By the end of the evening, George still didn't want to leave, so the remaining Weasley members were in the living room, drinking cups of hot tea.

Molly and Arthur sat on the love seat, while Harry and Ginny were snuggled on one of the sofas together, while Felicity and George took the other one. Ron and Hermione were sitting on the carpet closest to the fire and Charlie sat back on the plush armchair.

Felicity's eyes were already starting to close, as she curled into George's side.

"George, I think it's Felicity's bed time." Charlie joked.

"Mum, do you mind if we stay here tonight?" George thought he was very clever with his solution. "Fel could stay in Fred's bed. I'm sure he wouldn't mind." The family sat in slight shock, it was the first time that George had mentioned Fred without his calm and carefree demeanor cracking.

"Of-of course dear. Ginny's got some pajamas that Felicity can borrow, don't you dear?"

"Oh!" Felicity suddenly sat up. "Oh no! You don't have to, I mean-" George almost found how quiet and subdued Felicity was with his Family amusing. He assumed that the more time she spent with them, the snarkier her attitude would become.

"Don't worry, Felicity, dad's got a phone you can use, call Jan and let her know you won't be home."

"Come on, I'll show you where it is." Mr. Weasley sat up excitedly. "I'd love to see how you use it, if that's alright. I never did get the hang of the thing."

"Oh, uh, of course." And so Felicity found herself coerced into spending the night at The Burrow, much to George's excitement.


	9. Lesson 8

_"If it's both terrifying and amazing then you should definitely pursue it."_  
 _~Anonymous_

Ginny's pyjama's didn't fit.

George cracked up laughing as Felicity shuffled into the room in pants that hid her feet and a button-up top that hung down to her thighs and wouldn't let her arms poke out the sleeves.

To make matters worse, they were pastel pink. An ugly cotton candy pink that Felicity had nightmares about.

The truth, though, was that she'd wear the pyjamas again and again if she got George to laugh like that. It was a wild, carefree laugh, one Felicity figured hadn't been heard from him in a long time.

Ginny poked her head in the door, her eyes wide with shock. Nothing from her brother in three years, and now he'd bought Zonko's, brought home a girl and was _laughing_.

"Sorry if he's being obnoxious." Felicity huffed. "He thinks my attire is amusing."

Ginny cracked a grin. "I really am sorry about the pyjamas, Felicity. I just don't have anything else at the moment. If it helps, they're a bit big on me too."

"I bet you're not drowning in them, Ginny." George guffawed. "I never realized you were that small until now, Fel."

Ginny gave Felicity a look that was heavy with unspoken implications, and then bid the two goodnight.

Once the younger Weasley was gone, the door shut behind her, Felicity turned to George.

"It's pink." She pouted, but she only succeeded in amusing him further.

"I've never seen you in anything other than black and dark blue. It's quite refreshing." He chuckled.

"But- pink." She whined.

"Oh, quit complaining. If anything, you look downright snuggly in that getup." George teased, walking over to his own bed and fluffing up the pillow. "You can sleep in my old bed, and I'll take Fred's."

"I'm not snuggly!" She stomped across the room towards the bed George had designated for her, but George scooped her up mid-stomp.

"You're positively cuddly!" George proclaimed, and nuzzled his face into her neck.

"I'm not! Put me down!" She wriggled in his grasp, but he just clutched her tighter. "George Weasley, this is very inappropriate for a platonic friendship."

George very suddenly plonked her on the bed, and leaned over her.

"Ah, now there's the problem, love. I'm not so sure this is platonic." He breathed, his hot breath fanning her face.

Was it platonic? Had it ever been? Felicity felt her heart hammering in her chest, and her hands shook.

George was equally as nervous, suddenly wishing he'd left this conversation for a later time, a less... _intimate_ time.

Silence hung heavily between the two, neither one daring to speak, until Mrs. Weasley's antique grandfather clock struck midnight.

"Muggles call midnight the witching hour." Felicity whispered into the stillness, looking up at George, who was still hovering above her.

"And why's that?" George asked wearily.

"Because, at midnight, anything can happen. Because the world isn't watching, and secrets can be spilled into the darkness without ever having consequence." Felicity did not have a beautiful voice. It was too deep to be feminine and too hoarse from years of screaming to be melodic, but right now, right here, her voice was the most alluring thing George had ever heard.

" _Any_ secrets?" George wondered aloud.

"Any secrets." Felicity confirmed.

And so, because it was dark and because it was midnight and because he was staring into the deepest, darkest eyes he had ever seen, George Weasley whispered one of his best kept secrets into the night.

"I think, Felicity Nott, and I think about this quite often, that I'm falling in love with you."

Felicity was quiet for a minute, and George panicked. "Say something." He begged.

"I can't do magic." She said quietly.

"I know. It doesn't matter."

"I'm broken." She insisted.

"So am I."

"I'm lost too. I don't know what I'm doing with my life."

"I'll help you." He whispered.

"I can't replace Fred for you, George."

"I never asked you to, Felicity."

"You could have a real witch." She pressed.

"But I want you."

"She could do magic and know how to act around your family and-"

"She won't be you." George interrupted her.

"She could fix you."

"No she couldn't. No more than you can replace Freddie." He scoffed.

"I don't know how to love, George. I want to, but I don't know how." Felicity's voice cracked.

"Yes you do." He lowered himself towards her, his elbows resting next to her head. "You just need to realize it."

"What if I hurt you? What if I become like my family?" This one took George aback.

"I know who you are, darling, and I know you." He pressed a gentle kiss to her forehead. "No one can make you do something you don't want to do, not your family, not my family, not even I can do that."

"I'm scared, George." She whispered.

"So am I, Felicity. But you know what?"

"What?"

"Courage is not the absence of fear." And then he kissed her, not because he wanted to replace Fred, and not because she was broken like he was, but because she made him laugh and tell jokes, because she looked adorable in Ginny's pink pyjamas and because when she smiled her crooked smile, her whole face lit up.

And Felicity kissed him back, not because she wasn't scared, (she was terrified) but because she liked his red hair, and because he was good where she had only ever known bad, and because he was so very fascinating.

Their lips pressed together and molded against each other, Felicity's hands ran through his hair and his rested on the bed beside her.

 _His bed._

Felicity sat up, and George's hands moved to her waist, pulling her closer, closer. His lips coaxed hers open and their tongues danced. It was wild and it was passionate and it was so unlike anything Felicity could have ever imagined.

It ended far too soon, but they both knew that if they continued, things would happen that they weren't ready for.

"George-" Felicity started, but George pecked her on the lips, a small, simple kiss, nothing at all like the fire of the first one.

"We can talk in the morning, Fel." He kissed her forehead, and her eyelids and then her lips one last time before he untangled their limbs and climbed into the bed on the other side of the room.


	10. Lesson 9

_"So much of what we learn about love is taught to us by people who never really loved us."_  
 _~r.h. Sin_

Early the next morning, Felicity rose to the sounds of pots and pans being used in the kitchen downstairs.

The truth was, tired as she had been the night before, Felicity hadn't slept a wink. Maybe it was the strange house, maybe the excitement of last night that still lingered on her lips and in her heart was to blame.

The noises alerted her that it was a decent time to be awake, and that it was okay for her to walk downstairs.

Felicity was still in shock.

Never had she actually believed that someone could know all of her and still want her.

Muggles hated things that were different. Wizards hated squibs. Squibs weren't muggles. She'd been convinced that she was going to live her life pretending to be something that she wasn't for the rest of her life.

Alone.

Not belonging to either world, just sort of existing in her own in a type of perpetual limbo, letting the trauma and the pain haunt her forever.

Well, she wasn't entirely convinced that she wouldn't have to live like that. What George was dangling in front of her was just too good to be true.

And if something is too good to be true, it probably is.

That was one of the first things she'd learnt as a child. Young, naive, and painfully optimistic, she'd foolishly clung to the hope that she'd one day develop magical abilities and that her parents would love her until she reached twelve. Then she was shipped off to Saint Katherine's Academy for Young Ladies and she'd leant the hard way to accept her lack of magic.

And then she'd taken over. She might not have been a witch, but she had still been convinced that she was above muggles. Bitter, arrogant and resentful, there hadn't been a nun in that school that hadn't hated her or a student that wasn't scared of her.

Which was rather sad, now that she thought about it.

She'd been loathsome in school. She'd been even more intolerable after her father killed her first boyfriend.

Right from the start of this whole friendship with George, Felicity had been wary.

She should never have gotten smashed at the Leaky Cauldron, and she should never have hugged George when he mourned his lost brother.

But she had _wanted_ to.

She was selfish, and had taken what she didn't deserve. It didn't matter that George didn't care about any of it.

Okay, it mattered a lot to her fluttering heart.

Regardless, it _shouldn't_ have mattered. Had she been born a witch she'd have been rotting in a cell next to her brothers, her forearm marred with a dark, ugly scar from a dark, ugly man.

Felicity crept towards the kitchen, her internal debate still raging, however, she knew that ultimately she would do the _selfish_ thing, and stay with George until he truly saw her for what she was.

A witch. Not the good kind like Molly Weasley or Ginny, but the muggle version of a witch. The kind that kidnaped and fattened up children only to try and eat them.

Metaphorically, of course.

"But mum, he was actually laughing!" Felicity stopped in the hallway, right next to the door that led into the kitchen when she heard Ginny's pretty voice.

"I don't know what to think of her, but she's certainly done George good." This was a male's voice. She wasn't sure if the voice belonged to Charlie or Ron, or perhaps Harry.

"I'm not entirely sure about that girl," Mrs. Weasley mused, "but I'll admit, I haven't seen him act like his old self until last night."

Felicity realized that they must be talking about George- and then by extension- her!

"Can you blame him?" Another voice chipped in. Felicity decided this was definitely Ron's lilted voice. "I mean, I know I can't look at him without seeing...Fred. We've not exactly been fair to him."

"It's because they were twins." The first male voice spoke again. "You can't look at one and not think of the other. He's a reminder to us all that Fred's gone."

"It's not fair on him though. If you think it's hard looking at George, think about he must feel!" Ginny sounded lightly ticked off.

"Hush, none of this. We all miss Fred, but we can't very well push George away now that he's made an effort." Mrs Weasley sounded so _motherly._ It was something Felicity was unfamiliar with.

"Well, I think it's Felicity. She'd helping him." Ginny announced, but Felicity shook her head, thankful that the family couldn't see her. There was no way that it was _her_ dragging George out of his funk. There were too many other factors to consider.

He'd just bought Zonko's, a long-term dream of his, he'd started to re-connect with some old friend from Hogwarts, and Weasley's Wizard Wheezes was doing very well. Not to mention it had been three years since Fred's passing.

Felicity was quite certain she had nothing to do with George's lifted spirits.

"It very well may be." Mrs Weasley agreed. "I'm still not sure about her though."

 _Smart Woman._ Felicity thought to herself.

"She is a little um..." Ron trailed off.

"Posh?" Ginny finished. "Did you see what she was wearing? She looked just about ready to meet the queen."

"At a funeral," the unidentifiable voice chimed in.

"No woman that young should wear so much black." Mrs Weasley grumbled.

Felicity chewed the inside of her cheek as she backed away slowly.

George Weasley woke for the first time in three years from a dreamless sleep.

No nightmares had plagued him, he'd slept through the night, and he suspected that it was a strange combination of being so close to Fred again- or at the very least- so close to something that had been very clearly Fred's, and being in the same room as Felicity.

He sat up suddenly, though, when he noticed that Felicity's bed was empty. Not two minutes after George had opened his eyes, Felicity rushed into the room, and shut the door behind her. She didn't seem to notice George as she slid down the closed door to the floor and rested her head on her knees.

"Fel?" George asked softly. "You alright, love?"

"Never better, _darling_." She looked up and gave him a wry smile. "I just overheard some of your family talking."

"Oh? Were they complaining about what insufferable git Ron is again?" George asked, his expression torn between concern and a jesting smirk.

"No, they were talking about me, and you, and..." She paused, the mocking glint in her eyes fading. " _Fred._ "

"Oh?" George arched an eyebrow. "Fel, they're my family. I know you're not used to this kind of stuff, but they're just looking out for me." George said quietly, getting up and standing before Felicity's hunched frame. He offered her a hand up. "They won't see what I see immediately, but they don't distrust you because of who you are. They're just cautious because I'm their son or brother."

Felicity stood, but let go of George's hand immediately.

"It must be nice to have someone to care for you like that." She whispered.

"Hey, Fel," George took her chin in his hands. "I care."


	11. Lesson 10

_"I make no apologies for how I choose to repair what you broke."_  
 _~Meredith Grey_

George had kissed Felicity's lips six times, her cheek four times (three times on the right, once on the left) her nose eight times, her forehead twice and both of her eyelids once.

Felicity was keeping count, savoring each kiss, because she didn't trust that every kiss he gave her wouldn't be the last.

Felicity had made George laugh five times since meeting him, and he'd told eleven jokes since then too. George was keeping count, because he didn't trust that she wouldn't suddenly disappear from his life, like Fred had, and then all he'd be left with was an echo and a tally.

The whole relationship between the two was very odd, it was delicate, Felicity was skittish and George was more affectionate that Felicity was used to.

Every now and again Felicity would shy away from George. "It's all a bit much, sorry."  
She'd say, her eyes downcast. Sometimes, though, she'd snap something like "damnit George, a girl needs to breathe!" George preferred those comments to her shy, downcast gaze and soft spoken apology.

George knew he loved Felicity.

Felicity was still coming to terms with not-hating a wizard.

There were time when she was absolutely terrified of George's carefree use of magic, like when she and George had had dinner in his flat, and he'd flicked his wand to turn off the stove. Felicity had almost ducked under the table in fright. Other times, though, she watched George preform spells and charms wth fascination.

It was all about finding a balance and trying to keep their feet from being kicked out from under them.

One night, though, something no one had seen coming (though they really should have expected something like this to occur) happened. Something so unexpected, it could only have been a twist of fate.

Felicity Nott, whether she liked to admit it or not, had two brothers. Alabaster Nott was two years her senior, roughly the same age as George Weasley, while Theodore Nott Jr was a year younger than her.

It had been Theodore who had led the snatchers to her and supervised her capture, so it wasn't hard to understand Felicity's apathy towards her younger brother who now sat in the cell of some new "reformed" wizard prison without demontors guarding him.

Actually, Felicity felt pretty bitter about the new "kinder" laws the wizarding world had introduced. She'd had to suffer the presence of those beasts for months, and yet her brother got a cushy cell with a cot and two hot meals a day. Pillows and blankets and warm food. It was more than he'd given her.

Alabaster Nott, however, was an entirely different story. Felicity had somewhat fonder memories of her older brother, right up until her parents had realized there was something wrong with her. And even then, he'd pretended to not know all the places she'd hidden from the monsters that called themselves parents. Her favorite hiding place had been under his bed, because it was where her parents had least expected to find her and because he'd never have given her away. Although Alabaster had never shown open affection towards her, he had been the only family member never to lay a hand on her.

The oddest thing though about the war, was Alabaster's distinct absence from it. Nothing had been heard from the man since he'd left Hogwarts.

Well, at least, nothing had been heard from the man until he showed up at George Weasley's doorstep in the middle of the night.

George couldn't believe it; the knocking on the flat's front door at two thirty in the bloody morning had been stranger than waking up half-drunk to Felicity's panicked screams.

"What? I'm coming, dammit." George stumbled down the hallway. "What?" He demanded harshly as he thrust open the door, only to be greeted by an old classmate.

"George Weasley?" The dark haired, pale-skinned man asked. His hair was wild and messier than Harry's had ever been, his skin sallow and his checks sunken in. His clothes-once fine and respectable robes - hung off his too-thin and malnourished frame like rags.

"Alabaster Nott?" George rubbed his eyes, disbelieving.

"No, I'm Father Christmas." The man scowled. "Ho Ho Ho." He held his hands up to his stomach which was so sunken in that George swore he could count each individual rib.

"Merlin, you sound just like Felicity. Well come on in, I don't know what the hell you're doing here but you need some food, man."

George led Alabaster to the kitchen, realizing that the wizard's condition was much worse than he'd first realized. Alabaster could barely walk upright on his own.

"Felicity? You mean my sister?" Alabaster croaked. "Is she okay? What about Theodore? Where's he?"

"Slow down, man, you've got to put some food in you before you collapse." George set down a plate of left-over spaghetti that Felicity had cooked muggle-style that evening for dinner.

Alabaster scoffed down the food so fast, George was sure he'd vomit it all back up before the sun rose.

"Your sister's fine. Well established in the muggle world, actually. Theodore, on the other hand is in prison, your parents died in the war." George tried his best to explain. He felt no sorrow at having to tell Alabaster about his parents and brother. What those people had done to Felicity and so many others...they deserved worse than what they got.

"Serves the tossers right." He spat, beforehand shoveling more spaghetti in his mouth.

Fred and George had had many enemies in Slytherin house during their time at Hogwarts. Alabaster Nott had never been one of them. As a boy he'd been relatively level minded, and George recalled the one instance he and his twin had spoken to him.

"Maybe a nose bleed is less excessive."

That one comment from the pure-blooded Slytherin regarding the twin's batch of puking pastilles had sparked an idea that led to the invention of the nosebleed nougat, so George figured he owed the man at least a meal and a bed for the night.

"I'm sorry I barged in like this, George." Alabaster said when he'd finished his food. "I heard to wizards talking in Diagon Ally, and they mentioned that you ran the place and-" Alabaster seemed to realize something, and looked around. "Where's Fred?"

George swallowed hard.

"He-he didn't survive the war."


	12. Lesson 11

_"I may be the black sheep, but some of the white sheep aren't as white as they appear."_  
~ _Unknown_

" _No woman that young should wear that much black."_ Weren't those the exact words Mrs. Weasley had used?

Felicity stood in front of her wardrobe, chewing her lip as she examined the dark clothing that hung there.

She had an assignment due tomorrow for her World History class that she really should have been finishing before George got there, and yet, there she stood, fretting over what her _boyfriend's_ mother thought of her.

She might have been a squib, but Felicity Nott was after all, part of the proud and wealthy house of Nott. _Of course_ she dressed well.

Posh, as the Weasleys had decided to call it.

As for all the dark clothing, Felicity couldn't even picture herself in anything else. She considered herself too broken to wear anything happy.

Carefully, almost cautiously, Felicity drew out a purple scarf that Jan had given her for Christmas last year. It was a deep wine colour, not so much purple as _plum_. Yet, it was probably the most colorful thing she owned.

Felicity looped the scarf around her neck, and examined her reflection. Her dark wash bootleg jeans accentuated her waist line and legs rather nicely, and her black jersey was tight-fit and flattering. Her feet were clad in four inch high heeled black ankle boots and her make-up was tasteful, but consisted of heavy eyeliner. Feeling experimental, Felicity coated her lips in a thick layer of plum lipstick to match the scarf.

Maybe this was casual and colourful enough for Mrs. Weasley.

Felicity doubted it.

"Hey 'Licity, your man's just arrived!" Jan sang as she skipped down the hallway to answer the door, loud enough that she knew George had heard her from outside.

Jan had been far to excited about Felicity's new relationship with George.

Felicity made her way through to the living area, but stopped dead in her tracks as she reached the doorway. She couldn't bring herself to move as she stared at the ghost in front of her.

Alabaster Nott looked at his baby sister in awe. She'd grown up a lot since he'd last seen her. Her features looked battle-hardened and her eyes held the same coolness his mother's always had.

She'd cut her hair short, something Alabaster remembered his mother forbidding her from doing, ever, simply because it had been something she had wanted to do. He noticed that she still had the scar on her bottom lip from when Theodore had pushed her down the stairs one Christmas Eve when he was thirteen.

She was beautiful, in a dark, haunted way, and Alabaster was suddenly not okay with the way George had spoken Felicity's name, filled with admiration and heavy with something Alabaster didn't care to name.

"What the hell are you doing here?" Felicity spat, not having noticed that George had come in with Alabaster until he had wound his arms around her waist from behind.

"Fel, listen to him."

"Why? He's a Nott."

"So are you." Alabaster reminded her tersely.

Alabaster Nott had spent the last five years on the run, hiding from the wizard community. Felicity had had no idea just how in depth the family politics had gotten after she'd left the first time.

"Her name was Dianne. She was a squib too." Alabaster explained, sitting across from George and Felicity with his eyes downcast, clutching the teacup tightly between his calloused hands.  
"Worse than that, she was a werewolf." His hollow eyes stared vacantly at the abstract oil painting that hung on the wall behind Felicity's left shoulder.

"You think you're the first Nott to end up with a dead lover?" Felicity felt no sympathy for her long lost brother, he'd left and abandoned her all because of a girl?

"Ah, yes. What was his name again? Logan?" Alabaster sighed heavily, and even though his tone was damning, his eyes pierced her with an apologetic look. George placed his hand on her knee, squeezing slightly. It wasn't his place to ask questions, not now, but she needed to know that he was there, and that she could draw comfort from him.

"Lucian." The word tasted sour in her mouth. She didn't deserve to say his name. He'd been so good, so pure and light and he'd laughed with her, not at her. He'd smiled like the sun and thought the world of her.

She hadn't loved the boy. She'd been sixteen and full of hatred. She'd certainly liked him, his golden blond hair, his strong jawline, his sparkling blue eyes, he'd been every muggle teenage girls' dream boy, and he had decided that he liked Felicity.

It had been puppy love, a youthful infatuation that had no hope of actually ever becoming something more.

And then he'd been taken from her.

"Lucian. Yes. I'm sorry." Alabaster whispered.

"Enough about him. You were talking about your werwolf."

"She'd run away from the colony, you know, Fenrir Greyback had some sort of problem with her..." He trailed off, his eyes flashing. "Or maybe it was that he wanted...something from her. Either way, she ran, and I found her. I hid her in my flat, away from the manor. The Dark Lord was gathering power, and then Father asked me to-" Alabaster nearly choked. "He asked me to take the mark, and I refused. I took Dianne and we ran."

"They found you, didn't they?" George asked, but Felicity knew it was an unnecessary question. She knew how this ended. It always ended the same. Death and heartbreak and the bitter reminder of what it means to be a Nott.

"Of course they did. You can't run from Theodore Nott. That man always got exactly what he wanted." Felicity sneered. "Dianne suffered the same fate as Lucien. That monster probably made you take the mark."

"Exactly." Alabaster raised his ratty jumper sleeve, and showed the faded, greyish-red scar on his forearm to George and Felicity. "They forced the mark on me, and-and on Theo."

"Theodore wanted that wretched mark. He wanted it so badly he turned me in for it!"

"That's the thing, little sister, you were never supposed to make it to the ministry."


	13. Lesson 12

" _The only thing necessary for the triumph of evil is for good men to do nothing."_  
 _~Edmund Burke_

The conversation Felicity shared with Alabaster that fateful day was a lengthy one that was frequently interrupted by tears, hard questions, and brought to light just how harsh the beliefs of the Nott family were and how deep the Wizard World's problems ran.

Dianne had been a werewolf runaway, no one had cared about who she was and what she was capable of until she was found in Alabaster Nott's bed.

Regardless of the newly reformed ideals of the British Ministry of Magic, the discrimination was still there, underlying, writhing like a dark snake stalking its prey, waiting patiently to strike.

The story of how Alabaster and his younger brother were forced to take the mark, and of how Felicity found herself imprisoned in the ministry, which was the primary topic of Alabaster, Felicity and George's conversation that day, went something like this:

 _Seventeen-year-old Theodore Nott did not want to kill his sister._

 _Even though he thought her unworthy of his name and in spite of all the times he had tormented her, he did not want to bring about her death._

 _Nonetheless, it was what the Dark Lord had commanded of him. To_ purge _his family of the shame and filth she had brought them, the two true Nott heirs had to bring about her demise._

 _Alabaster Nott was even more unwilling than his brother to kill his sister, even more so after the demise of his beloved Dianne, and so he devised a plan. He convinced Draco Malfoy -ever conflicted, eager to prove himself- that Felicity Nott had a connection to the one thing the Dark Lord desired more than anything else._

 _Alabaster made Draco Malfoy believe with all his heart and soul that Felicity Nott had a tie to Harry Potter._

 _Theodore led the snatchers to her doorstep, but they had been instructed to deliver her to Alabaster, who was waiting, secluded somewhere, to apperate the both of them to safety, leaving Theodore to play the act of the betrayed brother, while the Dark Lord and the Nott family believed Alabaster to be the only Nott to disobey the orders of Voldemort._

 _Pansy Parkinson had been the loose straw in the plan. Assigned to lead the snatchers alongside her classmate and friend, she had changed her mind, and decided to deliver Felicity to the Ministry herself._

 _"Why should_ _the werewolf-sympathizer and squib-lover take the credit for my hard work?" she had rationalized, and so grabbed the unconscious Felicity from Theodore's arms and whisked her away herself._

 _Theodore, panicked, had sent word discreetly to his brother about what had happened, and told Alabaster that he should return, and face his fate and destiny like a man._

 _Alabaster had run. The Deatheaters had scoured Europe looking for him, and when the Deatheaters were brought to their knees by the boy who lived, the Ministry's aurors came after him, believing him to be as vile and twisted as his parents._

Only now had Alabaster Nott worked up the courage to come back to England. Only now had he decided to find his sister.

He was a coward and he knew it, no better than his parents who had so willingly followed a man without a soul.  
He didn't expect Felicity's forgiveness, he didn't deserve it either. He should have rescued her from the ministry the moment he'd received word of her capture.

Instead he ran.

He didn't know why he had turned to George for help so soon after returning to England. He hadn't known that he and Felicity knew one another, and he certainly wouldn't have known how George would have reacted to seeing his old Slytherin classmate on his doorstep in the middle of the night.

Perhaps, whatever twisted power had made George Weasley offer Felicity a place to stay for the night, so many months ago, had been urging Alabaster Nott forward as well.

Alabaster sat on the sofa, still clutching the delicate green and silver teacup in his hands. The irony of the colours did not escape him.  
Felicity sat twisting her purple scarf between her hands, while George ran his one hand up and down her back. His story told, the trio sat in silence, no one willing to be the first to speak.

To Felicity, speaking meant acknowledging what she had just been told, and if she acknowledged it, she had to take back every harsh word and dark thought she'd ever had towards her brothers, because in the end, when it mattered, _they had tried to save her._

So maybe they could have done more. So maybe their plan was a half-assed one at best.

But they had tried.

Suddenly, Felicity pushed herself off of the loveseat she and George occupied and flung herself at Alabaster. She hooked her arms around his neck and buried her face in his threadbare jumper, _and sobbed._

George watched as the woman he loved sought comfort from what remained of her family. He watched as she wept while Alabaster awkwardly tried to comfort her. George knew that she needed this; that Felicity needed her big brother right now. The news Alabaster had brought with him had been earth-shattering.

Still _,_ it bothered George to see Felicity so close to her brother. Coupled with what little he did know of her childhood, the sight before him just seemed so wrong, but the tugging in his heart and a warm feeling similar to what he felt whenever he visited the Burrow, reminded him that no one had the right to deny someone their family, no matter how messed up.

Alabaster had started to cry as well. He babbled incoherent apologies as he hugged his sister.

 _His little sister._

That was why he had come back. To make sure she was okay. He'd given up on hiding from the aurors, he'd given up on running away from everything. In truth, he'd been running since he'd lost Dianne, and he was so, _so_ tired.

Felicity was okay, which meant he could join his brother in his imprisonment, as he should have, long ago, to pay for what happened to Felicity. To pay for what happened to Dianne.


	14. Lesson 13

_"Well-behaved women seldom make history." ~Laurel Thatcher Ulrich_

Felicity took the news of Alabaster's intention to turn himself in rather well.

She nodded once, her lips pursed, and said simply:

"If the ministry still finds you guilty after you testify, then you will have to, I suppose."

George was shocked that she would give in so easily, however, Alabaster scowled.

"You think they'll show mercy to someone with our name? With my mark?"

"Of course not." Felicity shot back, laying a comforting hand on George's arm. It was more than clear to her that he did not fully understand her interactions with her brother, nor did he understand the situation.

Only the _good_ had faith in the new Ministry.

"I haven't any more faith in the ministry than I did before I was imprisoned there.

"In a cage." Alabaster grunted. George's lips turned down to share in Alabaster's anger.

"Precisely. In a cage. I simply meant that you will not be put in prison without a fair trial. The Malfoy kid got off scott-free for defecting, didn't he George?"

"Draco Malfoy? Uh-yes he did." With George's confirmation, Flicity tuned back to her brother.

"See? You defected too, didn't you? And you had the mark forced on you. I don't believe in anything the ministry does, and don't for a moment think that I'm naive enough to think that you haven't done things bad enough to end up in Azkaban, but-" at this Felicity turned back to George. "There are some good people in the ministry, at least. They'll make sure your trial's fair. Percy will help, won't he?"

George coughed awkwardly. "Uh, well, yes, I'm sure he will."

"Good." Felicity nodded. "Well, that's enough heavy stuff for the moment. George, are we still going to visit the Burrow tonight?" Her sudden change of subject shocked the men, and George fumbled for an answer.

"Uh well..." He trailed off, not sure he could bring a wanted Death Eater -albeit a defected Death Eater -to his parent's home without explanation.

"It's alright, Alabaster can stay here, you've only just begun to reconnect with your family, I can't take that away from you."

George wanted to argue. He wanted to point out that Felicity's family issues seemed far more important at the moment than his own, but the look on her face was one he had seen only twice, but nonetheless knew not to argue with.

"Very well. Let's go, then." George reached for his wand.

"Hold on just a minute, mister. I've been crying." She wagged her finger at his face playfully. Alabaster had taken to playing with the television remote, noticing that his presence was no longer necessary.

"Yes, so you have." George spoke softly, his tone lighthearted.

"I've got to clean myself up, and get Alabaster settled, not to mention that I have to explain all this to Jan."

George sighed mockingly and placed a kiss on her cheek. "Fine, you have ten minutes. We're already late, love."

Fifteen minutes later, Alabaster was fast asleep in Felicity's bed, having not had a good nights rest in a long time. Jan had been happy to order pizza for him, and had promised to take care of him -believing him to be Felicity's brother (which was actually the truth, although Felicity felt like it wasn't,) who had very unexpectedly caught a cold.

George and Felicity arrived at the Burrow, Felicity stumbling into George as they apperated.

"I really hate doing that." She grunted, pushing herself off of George. Normally, George would simply have pulled her back towards him and made a wisecrack or a flirtatious comment. This time, he just shook his head.

"I know, love. I'm sorry."

Dinner with the Weasleys was uneventful, the food was incredible, the company a little wary of Felicity and the newly formed couple were bombarded with embarrassing questions that hadn't been asked last time round.

After the meal, Felicity slipped away from George and pulled Percy aside, out onto the front porch.

"Percy...can I ask you something?" She started, chewing the inside of her cheek nervously. Sensing something was up, Percy nodded kindly.

"Of course, what's wrong?" He asked as she gazed out at the endless field in front of the house.

"It's...well, I'm telling you this in confidence, okay? You cannot under any circumstances tell the ministry. You know who I am, right?"

Percy frowned, her words not making much sense to him. "You're Felicity."

"Oh. I wasn't...I guess I'm a little relived, I think. I wasn't sure if he'd told everyone. You don't know my last name."

Percy thought about this, surprised to find it was true. It was odd, he hadn't even considered what her surname might have been, even though he felt a close connection with the young woman.  
"I don't suppose I do. What does it matter though?" He asked.

"Why do you think I was imprisoned in the ministry?" She countered.

"I assumed you were muggleborn. Why? Fel, what's bothering you?"

""I'm not a muggleborn, Perce. I'm the exact opposite of a muggleborn. My last name is Nott." She whispered, tugging at her jumper sleeve.

"Oh. Oh! You're -you're a squib then." Percy's eyes grew to the size of saucers. "And I said-oh I'm such an idiot! I said to go home to your family. Fel, I'm so sorry." Percy turned to face her, his expression a mixture of shock, pity and self-condemnation.

"Don't think anything of it, Perce. You didn't know, I didn't tell you. What you did that day though, regardless of what you said, it was the kindest anyone had been to me in a long time. And I'm-" Felicity wet her lips. "I'm going to need to ask you for your help again."

"Of course, anything." Percy breathed out, still reeling from the shock of her revelation.

"My brother -not Theodore, Alabaster, the eldest,"

"He went missing, the ministry's had a hard time tracking him down. He was also a-"

"It was forced on him, Perce." She interrupted Percy's ramblings. "He defected the night I was taken prisoner, he fell in love with a werewolf, who was a squib too and-"

"Felicity, do you know where Alabaster Nott, a wanted Death Eater and war criminal is?" Percy asked, his demeanor suddenly calm and very serious. Felicity got the impression he had gone into "ministry-worker mode".

"You mustn't tell the ministry Percy, not yet. He fully intends to turn himself in, okay? And I know he's done horrid things, I'm not an idiot. I also know that you're obligated to help the ministry and I know it's stupid to hope, but can you help him? Give him a fair trial at least?"

"Felicity, there're still a lot of things to fix within the ministry, and-" Percy stopped talking when he saw the look in Felicity's eyes, and he thought about what he would have done if he'd been in Alabaster's shoes, had wound up in the wrong place, at the wrong time?

 _The wrong family._

What would he have done if it was Ginny who was taken?

 _A hell of a lot more than defect and run._

She looked young. Innocent, hopeful, vulnerable. Her brother- he must've done something right by her if she was so desperate to help him. Not even when Percy had first met her, three years ago, when he'd let a dirty, wounded girl out of a cage and done what little he could to help her, had she looked so - _not bitter._ She lacked the hardened menacing glint in her eye that she wore like a protective shield.

"I'll do what I can, Fel. You have my word." Percy promised. And with all his heart, _by Merlin_ , he meant it.

"Hey, everything okay out here?" George asked as he stepped outside and wound his arms around his girlfriend's waist.

"Yeah," Felicity beamed up at Percy. "Everything's okay. Or-it will be." George nodded in understanding, sending his brother a thankful glance, knowing what had been discussed in his absence.


	15. Lesson 14

_"And though in all lands, love is now mingled with grief, it still grows, perhaps, the greater."_  
 _~J.R.R Tolkien_

It was Percy who brought Alabaster to the Ministry. Felicity refused to accompany her brother.

She had sworn that she would never set foot in the wretched building that housed the ministry ever again.

She didn't allow herself to think of all the other things she had sworn to avoid but hadn't. Wizards, for one. Her family's money that she was using to pay her way through school, was another.

Regardless, Felicity was adamant not to go anywhere near the Ministry.

So she spent the morning of the day Alabaster tuned himself in, in her World History lecture, listening with rapt attention to the Lecturer describe the consequences of the First World War.

The afternoon she spent in George's flat. They sat together on his overstuffed sofa, discussing the consequences of the Second Wizarding War.

Eventually though, they grew tired of weighing the pros against the cons of the newly reformed ministry, and lapsed into a comfortable silence.

"Felicity, tell me a story." Felicity snorted.

"A story? Do you find me that boring?"

"No, I find you quite..." George leaned in closer to her, so that his lips brushed against the shell of her ear. "Fascinating." He breathed, and Felicity's breath hitched. He planted a single kiss to the skin just below her ear before he pulled away, satisfied with his teasing, and locked his eyes with hers. "I just thought we could both use something to distract us for a while."

Felicity was still a little flustered. "Distractions, yeah, that-that works." She took a deep breath, and thought about a story she could tell him.

"Ever heard of the little mermaid?"

"Mermaid? Trust me Fel, those things aren't little."

"Gah, everything's so technical with you Wizards. Pretend for a moment that mermaids are just fairytale creatures, alright?"

"Like Nargels?" George asked, amused.

"What? Yeah-sure. Your mother must've told some weird fairytales. Whatever. Pretend that mermaids actually look half human, okay? Like really, really beautiful girls, with fish tails."

George scrunched up his nose, but nodded.

"Okay, well there was a mermaid, and she fell in love with a human."

"But that's impossible!" George interrupted.  
"So's having a hairy heart, but that never stopped Beedle the Bard." Felicity countered. "Now shut up and listen, okay?

"I won't say a word." George promised, and Felicity gave a curt nod of satisfaction.

"Well the mermaid, she was the daughter of the King, if I remember correctly. And the King hated humans, so he wouldn't help her be with the human prince. The mermaid-"

"Did she have a name?" George asked, and Felicity gave him a scathing look before continuing.

" _The mermaid_ went to the sea witch for help, but the sea witch was evil. She agreed to help the mermaid in exchange for her voice, because the mermaid princess was good at singing. When the mermaid made it to the land, every step she took hurt her like a thousand knives, but she wanted to dance with the prince, so she ignored the pain."

Felicity took a deep breath.

"The deal came with one condition though; the mermaid had to make the prince fall in love with her in -I think it was three days. And if he didn't, she would turn into sea foam. So anyway, the mermaid got to dance with the prince, but in the end, he married someone else, and the mermaid died."

"That's it?" George asked, astounded.

"Well, yeah, I mean, some rewrites say that the mermaid and the prince got married and lived happily ever after, but in the original she suffers a lot, accomplishes nothing, and dies. I much prefer that version."

George looked at Felicity for a moment, took note of how her short hair wasn't styled neatly today, instead it flew about, and curled every which way. Her sharp chin and nose, her deep set eyes and her tiny frame that was lounging against the arm of the couch, her short legs thrown over his lap.

He thought about how she'd been born without magic and how she had confessed that when she was younger she'd have given anything to be a witch.

"Felicity, darling, how old were you when you heard this story?"

"Twelve. I read it in the library of the muggle school my father sent me to, why?"

"Just curious." He pulled at her legs until she got the message and crawled into his lap. He brought his lips to hers in a searing kiss.

"That's nice. Are you going to kiss me like that every time I tell you a morbid fairytale?" She asked when he pulled away.

"Of course not. I'm going to kiss you like that every time I feel overwhelmed by how lucky I am." George shot back.

"That's unexpected. You think you're lucky to have fallen in love with me?" She sounded half-jesting, half serious, and entirely self-depreciating.

"No, I think I'm lucky that you're falling in love with me." George responded, his tone light, but Felicity went very quiet.

Sensing her unease, George placed a lingering kiss to her temple. "I'm sorry."

"Don't be, you have nothing to be sorry for." She whispered. Then, as if as an afterthought to change to topic, she added; "It's your turn to tell me a story."

George knew a happy love story was out of the question for her. Not today, today she was even more pessimistic and cynical that she usually was, but perhaps a story with a less sadistic ending...yes. Something bittersweet.

"This is actually a true story." He started, as Felicity shifted off his lap and cuddled into his side. "Harry Potter's dad, he had a friend that survived the first war. Actually, Harry's dad had three friends. Moony, Wormtail and Padfoot." George smiled. He'd been fascinated by Harry's tale of the Marauders.

"Strange names." Felicity commented, but George just continued.

"Moony, well, Moony was a werewolf, and when Harry's parents died, Padfoot was blamed and put in prison, but it was Wormtail who had actually led Voldemort to the Potter's house and then faked his death. So Moony was alone for a very long time. And then, when Voldemort came back, those that believed he was back re-formed the Order of the Phoenix, which was a well, an order that was formed during Voldemort's first uprising." The explanation was longer than George would have liked. "One of the members of the order was a young auror, Tonks. She was beautiful, but clumsy and eccentric. She was a metaphorpagus, so she ran around with pink hair and changed her features to make people laugh in the middle of those dark times."

"She sounds amazing," Felicity said. "Heroic."

 _Kind of like you,_ she fought the urge to add.

"She was." George agreed. "No one knows how it happened, exactly. There was a lot going on at the time, with the war brewing and all, and then Padfoot and Moony were reunited, and shortly after that Padfoot was killed, so it was all very tragic, but amongst all that grief and sadness and chaos, Tonks and Moony, well, they fell in love." George paused to glance at his girlfriend, who looked up at him with a gleam in her eyes as if to say "well, go on."

"Moony was terrified, and it took a lot of convincing for him to even marry Tonks, but he did, and it took even more convincing for him to not go completely bonkers when Tonks got pregnant. He was much, much older than her, you see, and poor, he couldn't get a job because of his lycanthropy, and then, well, when Tonks fell pregnant, he was terrified that the child would be born with the same condition. In the end though, he and Tonks had a son, and named him after his grandfather - he was muggleborn, and was killed before the baby was born."

"Well that's a very sappy story." Felicity commented.

"I'm not finished yet, Fel." George ran his hand through her hair. "It gets very sad. They made Harry the godfather, but Teddy was born right in the middle of all the chaos, and when the battle of Hogwarts happened, Tonks - who was supposed to be looking after Teddy- left him with her mother and went to fight next to her husband because she wanted her son to grow up in a better world."

"They died didn't they? Moony and Tonks? They didn't make it?" Felicity's voice shook.

"No, they didn't. Teddy's being raised by his grandmother, Andromeda." The flat was very quiet for a long time, until Felicity announced that if she didn't eat anything soon, she'd pass out from hunger.

George just laughed as he pulled out his wand to prepare their supper.


	16. Lesson 15

_"Nothing worth doing is easy."_  
 _-Sam Axe_

Alabaster was given a fair trial, Percy promised Felicity two weeks after he had taken Alabaster before the ministry.

The man had come to visit Felicity as soon as the sentencing had been carried out. They were currently seated in the flat Felicity shared with Jan, Percy looking very out of place in the muggle apartment, however, not as out of place as George usually did in his magenta robes or dragon skin jackets.

"They took his entire story into account, and he was treated fairly. However, he did commit several aggressions against muggles and-" Percy started to explain.

"I know Perce. No one in my family is wholly good. Thank you, though. For making sure it was fair. That's all I asked of you." Felicity interrupted.

"You're good." Percy said, with so much conviction that Felicity almost believed him.

"No I'm not Perce." She gripped the teacup tighter, and averted her gaze.

"Well you're not bad, Fel." Percy said smoothly, and Felicity laughed without humor.

"That's not how it works, Perce. Just because I'm not wearing a dark mark doesn't mean I'm good. I'm...I'm a grey area."

Percy had left shortly afterwards, his final words of departure coupled with a fierce hug and a promise that if she ever needed him, he'd be there.

George had good days and bad days, like everyone else on planet Earth, he supposed. His bad days, however, had gotten much worse since Fred's death, which, he knew, was absolutely to be expected when one looses their best friend and brother. He sent an owl to Felicity, letting her know that he wasn't feeling up to their dinner tonight, and sat staring into space for a long time, before the tears began to trace paths down his cheeks.

Felicity hurriedly shooed George's owl out of the kitchen window before Jan saw the creature, then sat down to read the letter. George almost never sent letters via owl, and Felicity assumed that for him to have done so must mean something urgent. It wasn't until she read the brief letter that she felt a new sense of powerlessness.

She wasn't an idiot. She knew that George would never cancel something because he was "feeling under the weather" as he'd put it. Hell, just last month the man had showed up on her doorstep with a wracking cough just to insist that they go ice skating somewhere, even though it was the middle of July.

"George Weasley, what are you doing?" Felicity murmured. It wasn't until then that she realized just how much she had come to rely on Magic. She didn't actually know how to get to George's place without the use of aparation, and she wanted to kick herself.

Technically, yeah, she knew his flat was above his shop in Diagon Ally, but that was halfway across town from her own flat, and she hadn't actually attempted to travel there since her outing with George in May.

Something was very wrong, though. That much her gut instincts told her. Felicity chewed her lip, debating on whether or not to follow George's wishes or check up on him.

"Jan!" She finally called. "Jan could you call a taxi for me?" When no reply came, Felicity called again, "Jan?"

Searching the flat, she found Jan fast asleep at her desk, her hair sprawled across her textbooks and messy handwritten notes.

"They'll work you to death studying Medicine." Felicity whispered as she smiled fondly at the blonde woman. "I suppose it's up to me to get you into bed now." She rolled her eyes, before attempting to pick Jan up out of her chair. She managed, only just, to flop her from the chair onto the bed.

As Felicity placed Jan's annoyingly floral pink duvet over her, Jan stirred.

"The man earlier was right, y'know." She slurred. "You're not bad, Fel. Not bad at all."

"That's not exactly the problem, Jan." Felicity grunted before leaving the room. "And it's not what matters." She muttered darkly. She wasn't in the least surprised to hear that Jan had eavesdropped, she hadn't exactly been careful with her roommate around. She did wonder, however, what Jan thought of all the strange things that she talked about with her occasional, strangely dressed, red-headed guests.

Felicity didn't go visit George, and George made no effort to contact Felicity for the next week and half. It wasn't that he didn't want to see her, he desperately wanted to see Felicity.

He was afraid though. He had allowed his bad day to overcome and lower him to the same state he had been in before Felicity had entered his life.

Nothing had triggered it, nothing had to. His state of grief and loneliness was always there at the back of his mind, Felicity just seemed to be very good at pushing it away.

The only thing that kept George from spending his nights at the Leaky Cauldron again was the irrational fear of running into Felicity there, despite his knowledge of her hesitancy towards all things magic.

So George drank himself into a stupor for a week and a half, alone, slurring incoherent profanities at his twin for leaving him alone.

Felicity had had enough. She was not an idiot, nor was she a star-struck lover that sat on the couch at home drinking tea and sewing while waiting for her beloved to come back to her.

So one fateful Wednesday, early in August, Felicity picked herself up, hailed a taxi and made her way to Diagon Ally. As she entered the Leaky Cauldron, her eyes scanned the crowd of patrons, searching for someone who seemed kind enough to help her into the ally.

"Felicity!" Someone called, and the young squib turned around gratefully to find herself face to face with none other than Harry Potter.

"Oh, hello, I um-"

"Do you need me to open the wall for you?" He offered, seeming to notice her dilemma rather quickly.

"I-yes, thank you Harry."

"It's not a problem, Felicity. We're all worried about George, Percy was talking about sending you in after him just yesterday." Harry said casually, pushing his glasses up the bridge of his nose as he led her towards the back of the inn.

"Oh, so it's not only me he's chosen to cut off?"  
She asked, her tone sharp. Harry spun to face her in surprise.

"This is the first time he's done this since you two met?" Harry asked, baffled.

"Done what? I thought before we met George was distant from everyone?"

"Well yes, but we received letters and such, you know, assurance that he was alive. But every now and then he'd just sort of close up and not talk to anyone. Verity sent word a few days ago that he's done it again." Harry explained as the two of them entered Diagon Ally and began walking down the crowded street.

"Verity's the girl who runs his shop, yes?" Harry nodded in confirmation.  
"Oh, I do hope that idiot is okay." Felicity mused. She bid Harry farewell as they reached the entrance to Weasley's Wizard Wheezes, and the younger man went on his way.

"Hello and welcome to-oh you're Felicity!" Verity smiled softly at George's girlfriend. "It's nice to finally meet you, when you two first met George wouldn't stop talking about you."  
Felicity suppressed a blush and asked, rather bluntly, "You wouldn't happen to know where he is, would you?"

The girl nodded, and beckoned for Felicity to follow her up a staircase hidden behind the counter. "Up here, he hasn't left his flat in days." With a swish of her magenta robes, Verity disappeared up the stairs, and Felicity trudged after her hesitantly.

The younger witch held open the door for Felicity when she reached the top. Oddly enough, Felicity had never entered George's flat through the front door. At least, not while conscious.

"Thank you, Verity." Felicity dismissed the witch, who nodded and scurried down the stairs once again. "It was lovely meeting you." Felicity called as an afterthought, thinking that she probably hadn't been very polite throughout their encounter.

With a nervous swallow, Felicity turned her attention away from the chaos of the store below and stepped quietly into the darkened flat's living room.


	17. Lesson 16

_"The finest souls are those who gulped pain and avoided making others taste it."_  
 _~Nixariat_

"George? Darling are you here?" Felicity called softly as she made her way into the living room. The apartment was dark, the curtains drawn closed, the lights switched off, and the air was thick. Felicity could smell the depression and loneliness, the self-hatred and grief wafting off of her beloved just standing in the entryway.

"Go away!" A voice called. It sounded hoarse, whether from disuse or screaming Felicity couldn't tell.

"If you think that's going to scare me off, then you clearly don't know who you fell in love with." She taunted, only to jump when a sheepskin slipper hit half-heartedly against the floor, several meters in front of her.

"Oh come on now, you can do better than that, my love. Come on, let it out. Scream at me, throw stuff at me. I'm quite used to being used as a stress-relief dummy." Felicity had lifted the tone of her voice an octave higher, and George hated it. It wasn't like her, the taunting and the sarcasm he didn't mind. But the _girly_ lilt to her usually husky speech was grating at the man's ear drums.

"Come on now, sweetheart. Don't hold ba-"

"Shut up!" George yelled, finally stepping into Felicity's line of sight. "Shut up Felicity. You sound-"

"What? Like the supportive and submissive little girlfriend you seem to think I am?" Her voice deepened and returned to its usual tone and George almost kissed her then and there, but not before he registered her words.

"I never-"

"One and a half bloody weeks George! I'm not going to wait for you to slip out of your funk!" She yelled, suddenly. "You want to wallow in depression and self-pity, fine! I'm the bloody queen of self-pity. I can understand that. But you tell me, and you let me be there to keep you from falling off the cliff, you understand?"

George lost it.

"What if I don't want you there? Here?" He yelled, stepping closer towards the woman. Felicity quickly closed the door behind her and took in George's appearance in the dimly lit apartment.

It looked like he hadn't bothered to shave at all, and ginger scruff covered his cheeks and chin. His eyes were hidden behind dark purple smudges and he wore nothing but a vest and a pair of sleep shorts. He looked terrible, but Felicity wasn't shocked. She'd done the same things to herself that George was doing now.

"I don't believe that for a moment, George Weasley. Not after you spewed all that crap about being in love with me."

"What if I changed my mind?" The man sulked, his hands balled into fists. He advanced on Felicity, and she resisted the urge to smile in satisfaction.

"You don't seem the fickle kind, darling. I think-"

"You think what?" George's voice was louder than he intended it to be, but, to her credit, Felicity didn't flinch.

"You're ashamed." She whispered quietly. It seemed as George got louder, Felicity got quieter.

"Oh yeah? Of what?" He challenged. He was standing so close that Felicity could've reached out and brushed her fingers along his fuzzy cheek.

"Of your brokenness. Of your inability to function without Fred."

"Don't say his name!" George barked.

"Of course I'll say his name. He was your brother. I will not dishonor him in that way."

Felicity suddenly found herself pressed to the door, George's chapped lips pressing against her own. He tasted of firewhiskey and he smelt like he needed a good shower, and physically the kiss did nothing for Felicity, but emotionally, she felt his pain and his sorrow and she empathized.

And empathy was what mattered right here, right now.

"I'm sorry Fel, I'm sorry. I'm a git. A real git for doing that to you." George groaned when he finally pulled away and rested his head against her shoulder.

"Don't apologize to me George. Just let me be with you. Let me be your strength while yours is gone, okay?"

"I-Fel-I can't do this anymore."

"Yes you can, you idiot. Fred would never forgive you if you ran Wizard's Wheezes into the ground, or gave up on your family."

"Felicity Nott, you must be heaven-sent." George chuckled, a mocking, almost bitter laugh.

George didn't suddenly recover from his bout of depression miraculously. But Felicity did coax him through it. It lasted another three days, and during those three days, Felicity and George cried together, drank together and acknowledged their individual broken souls, and then, somehow, managed to fit their broken souls together in a messy, twisted jigsaw puzzle that had no smooth edges or pretty corners, no colourful pictures and no set shape.

And Felicity and George laid out their messy jigsaw puzzle-souls and accepted every part of each other, good and bad, Nott and Weasley, charcoal grey and off-white.

"I love you, so, so much Felicity Nott."

"I love you too, George Weasley, resident drunk."


	18. Lesson 17

_"And for once, bravery looked a lot like running away."_  
 _~Kat Savage_

Felicity found herself pressed against the wall, breathless, as George's lips roamed over her neck, his body flush against hers, his hands holding her waist, his fingers tracing soft patterns over the dark fabric of her shirt.

"Fel, I love you." George rasped against her skin.

"You keep telling me that, you're going to wear out the meaning." Felicity responded with heavy breaths.

George lifted his head from her neck to meet her eyes, a devious grin gracing his features.

"Never." Then his mouth was on hers again, kissing her like a man drowning. Felicity kissed back with equal fervor, her hands fisted in his too long hair, trying to drag the man closer, closer, closer.

"George, Felicity, Mum says-oh come on you two! I did not need that image in my head!" George's little brother Ron stood in the frame of the backdoor, which led from the kitchen into Mrs Weasley's vegetable garden, his eyes squeezed shut and his mouth twisted in a scowl.

George had been showing Felicity the back of the house, when things had taken an...uh, unexpected turn.

George groaned and pulled himself away from Felicity, a wearing a scowl that matched his brother's.

"Really Ron?"

"How was I supposed to know what you two were doing?" The younger redhead whined, then turned back into the kitchen grumbling about _obliviate_ and _asking Hermione to do it._

Felicity resisted the urge to laugh at George's unamused expression, and placed a gentle hand on his cheek, letting her fingers brush lightly against his skin.

"Come on, Romeo. It's not like you won't get another chance to do that." She leaned forward, and continued in a lower tone, "I don't plan on going anywhere," her hot breath raised goosebumps along George's spine, and before Felicity could pull back, George had her wrapped up in another heated kiss.

He pulled back all to soon, though, both of them breathing heavily.

"Come on, mum's going to kill us if we don't go eat now." George's soft voice only made Felicity want to continue what they were doing before, so she simply nodded, and ran her fingers through her hair, not trusting herself to speak.

This was the fourth time Felicity was having dinner at George's family home, and, unlike the first time, it was a much quieter affair. Only Ginny and Ron -the two Weasley's who still lived at home-and their partners were in attendance. The dinner was awkward, to say the least. Mrs Weasley still didn't approve entirely of Felicity, though Mr. Weasley seemed to be endlessly fascinated by her way of life.

"Ron, Harry, how're things going with the Aurors?" Mrs. Weasley asked suddenly, cutting off her husband's question about the inner workings of a television.

"Quite good actually," Harry answered, his mouth full of mashed potato.

"Mmh, we're still technically trainees, but they're short-staffed, so they're sending us on actual assignments." Ron nodded. The discussion bent towards the ministry's current goal to clean up the mess left behind from the war, and George suddenly placed his hand on Felicity's knee, minutes before Hermione brought up a very uncomfortable topic of conversation.

"Oh yes, I actually read something interesting about the recent capture of Alabaster Nott in the daily prophet." The frizzy-haired girl hummed, not once looking up from her meal.

"Oh yes, there was quite the disturbance when he showed up at the ministry- you really should ask Percy about it, actually, 'Mione, if you're interested. He's the one who brought the man in." Mr. Weasley chimed in, and Felicity was struck -again- by how little George's family actually knew about her without realizing it. (With the exception of Percy, of course.)

They'd noticed after a while that she was a squib, but they still had no idea about her true parentage.

"Actually, he turned himself in." Felicity said quietly, correcting Mr. Weasley's assumption that his son had captured a criminal and brought him to justice.

George's hand tightened on her knee. "Fel, you don't have to tell them." He said lowly, but Mrs. Weasley's keen ears missed nothing, and her soft brown eyes immediately told Felicity that she assumed the worst.

"Tell us what?" She demanded.

"Alabaster Nott," Felicity's voice hardened in challenge at Mrs. Weasley's demand. "He's my brother." Ron's mouth hung open in mid chew, Harry, Hermione and Ginny all shared the same stunned look and Mr. Weasley's expression was one of bafflement.

Felicity started straight ahead, her chin lifted high, refusing to be ashamed of her family name. She'd spent too long being ashamed.

"Oh, that's..." Mrs Weasley seemed at a loss for words. She stumbled around a few vowels for a bit, until finally her expression softened to one that was almost worse than the hatred Felicity was expecting.

It was pity.

"I'm sorry dear." It was the kindest Mrs. Weasley had been to Felicity, ever.

"For what? Alabaster was always going to turn himself in, he just wanted to make sure I was okay first." Felicity shrugged off the sympathetic glances and pitying looks she was receiving, placed her knife and fork together on her plate, and continued.

"Thank you so much for dinner Mrs. Weasley, it was delicious. George, I'm afraid I have an assignment due tomorrow that I need to proof-read, would you mind taking me home?"

"Oh, you can't leave now!" Hermione jumped suddenly. "Molly's made her Malva Pudding, you must try- hey!" Ron had gripped Hermione's hand tightly to make her shut up.

"I'm sorry, Felicity. She gets nervous in awkward situations." Ron apologized, although he looked as panicked as Hermione did.

Realizing that the situation was not going to get any better, George stood up and offered Felicity his hand. "Shall we then?" Felicity gratefully took his hand and just like that, they were gone.

George returned nearly ten minutes later, having made sure his beloved was okay, to face his family with a murderous expression.


	19. Lesson 18

_"Give people time, give people space. Don't beg anyone to stay. Let them roam. What's meant for you will always be yours."_  
 _~Reyna Biddy_

"What was that?" George demanded of his family.

Harry and Ginny shared a look, before Harry spoke up. "We didn't think-"

"No you didn't!" George snapped. "You all acted like idiots, but Mum! What you did was probably the worst!" He turned to his stunned Mother.

"Excuse me?" George shut his eyes and pinched the bridge of his nose.

"Mum, she's spent her entire life being mocked for being a squib, being beaten by her family, and the first thing you do when she finally decided to share that with you all is pity her."

"But-"

"She doesn't want anyone to feel sorry for her. Harry, help me here." George turned his pleading gaze to the Boy who Lived, hoping he could at least empathize with Felicity.

"I-he's right, Molly." Harry mumbled, his eyes downcast.

"Well what was I supposed to say?" Mrs. Wesley demanded, and Mr. Weasley made no attempt at calming his wife.

The argument escalated, and George began to realize that prejudice wasn't exclusive to death Easters and pure-blooded elitists.

"'Licity, I'm home." Jan sang as she entered their shared flat. When no reply was forthcoming, Jan assumed that Felicity was out with George and grinned slyly to herself. "Come on, Stanley. Come on boy," she coaxed to a small figure standing in the entry way of the flat.

A puppy shuffled into the hallway of the flat, and Jan clapped her hands delighted at the dog's obedience.

"Come on, boy, come on." She sang and the little pup wandered further towards her, opening his maw in a soft bark.

"That's it, good boy." The puppy reached Jan and jumped up, placing his front paws on her knees.

He was a very beautiful dog. He was a mixture of a border collie and a Great Dane and Doberman crossbreed, and was entirely black, with the exception of white markings on his front and back paws, and a large spot that ran from his chin to his chest.

"Oh, what a good boy!"'Jan cooed, rubbing the puppy between the ears. "Yes you are, yes you are." The dog barked again in response, and Jan laughed.

"Jan? What on earth are you doing?" Stanley let out a whine and Jan nearly jumped three feet in the air at the sound of Felicity's voice.

"I thought you were out with George." Jan remarked as Felicity shuffled out into the hallway.

"I just got back. What are-is that a dog?" She demanded.

"Um, yes?" Jan responded quietly. "I know you said pets were a hinderance in the apartment, but you've paid off the rent so there's money left over and a friend of mine couldn't afford to keep him anymore and I couldn't just-"

"If you shut up now I'll let you keep the thing." Felicity groaned and shuffled back into the room. Stanley let out a low whine and Jan patted his head.

"She's not very good at being nice, sorry boy. But she'll warm up to you." The blond comforted the little dog. "Come on, let's get you some food and water, and I can set up your bed in the living room, then I'll see what's wrong with her." Jan headed into the open-plan living area with the black and white dog following behind her, his tail wagging.

"If that dog pisses in the flat, he'll be in the bloody pound before you can say 'dog kibble'" Felicity's irritated voice rang through the flat and Stanley barked at the sound.

"Shh, boy. She's just grumpy." Jan comforted the puppy as she set everything up for him.

"Alright, what happened?" Felicity looked up from her desk at Jan who stood in the doorway, her arms crossed.

"Nothing. Bugger off."

"I'm not an idiot, 'Licity. And like it or not, I'm the closest thing you've got to a friend outside of the Wizard world, so talk."

"How-how'd you-"

"My little brother's a wizard. It doesn't take a genius to figure out that you're the opposite of him."

"You're smarter than you look, Jan." Felicity conceded. "But I'm not the opposite of a muggleborn. Muggleborns are gifted, special. Squibs aren't."

"Rubbish and you know it." Jan walked further into the room and seated herself of Felicity's navy blue duvet.

"Regardless, it's none of your business." Felicity turned back to her work, hoping to have ended the discussion.

Jan simply sat on the bed with her arms crossed.

"It's his family." Felicity finally conceded.

"They don't like you?" Jan asked, her voice almost defensive, like she was willing to defend her hard-headed, grouchy, hot-tempered roommate.

"No. Well, some of them do. It's a big family. You've met Percy, he seems to like me well enough. It's...uh, it's his mother."

Jan laughed. Felicity almost growled at the girl, but Jan put her hands up in a calming manner.

"Didn't you say she had six sons?" Jan asked softly.

"Five. She lost one in the war."

"Yes that's right. Your boy's twin. Well obviously she's going to be protective of him. The relationship between a mother and a son is just as strong as that of a daughter and her father, you know." Jan received a blank look for her efforts. "Oh. You don't know."

Felicity scowled and turned away. "Go take care of that mutt, Jan."

Jan slowly walked out of the room, realizing for the first time just how deep the extent of Felicity's family problems ran.

"A mother, 'Licity, will be distrusting of anyone who gets close to her kids, especially if they're as vulnerable as your boy is. Don't take it personally."

" _Don't take it personally_." Felicity mocked when Jan was gone. "Yeah right. I bet Hermione, Fleur and Audrey never had to deal with Mrs. Weasley's distrust."

George stormed out of the Burrow that night. Never before had he been that angry with his family.

They didn't even see what they did to Felicity. They thought they were in the right. They felt sorry for her, of course they did, but what his mum had said could never be forgiven.

 _"Maybe she's better off in the muggle world. You don't want to drag her back into a world where she'll never fit in."_

How could she _._ Howcould his mother have said that?

"George!" The tone of his father's voice was what made George stop. He wasn't used to hearing his dad sound so...commanding. It reminded him of when he and Fred had gone overboard with their antics when they were young.

"What?"

"We don't...we don't want to push you away, son. It's just..."

"That I'm dating a Nott." George spat.

"No! Well, it's unnerving. Everyone that came out of that family went bad, George. You have to understand. Your mother's just worried about you. What if she's-"

"Felicity's not perfect dad. But she's not evil. I love her, that should be enough for all of you." George's voice was raised, and it cracked as he defended his girlfriend to his family. "Tell mum I'll come back again when she decides to be civil again."

With that, George disapperated from the front garden of his childhood home, leaving behind his distraught father.

"We just got him back." Ginny whimpered from the doorway, and Harry and Ron standing on either side of her, a comforting hand on each of her shoulders.


	20. Epilogue

_"Courage, dear heart."_  
~C.S Lewis

A ninety-seven year old Alabaster Weasley stood alone in a graveyard, looking over the many gravestones belonging to his family.

The oldest grave belonged to an uncle he had never met. He didn't dwell much on Fred Weasley's grave, but the grave that stood next to it, identical in almost every aspect, caught his attention. The only difference between the two graves-besides the date of death- were the words "husband" and "father" engraved next to the words "beloved son and brother".

There wasn't a grave for Alabaster's mother. She had insisted that George be buried beside his brother when he passed away, but had refused to allow her children to bury her, so her body had been cremated and her ashes were poured into her husband's coffin. Now their bodies lay together for all eternity, in a twisted, morbid fashion that Alabaster's mother would probably have approved of.

Behind the graves of the first set of Weasley Twins lay the graves of the second set of Weasley twins. Fred Weasley II and Roxanne Weasley-Scamander's graves were as identical as those of their father and uncle's, however, on either side of the twins lay their spouse, Heather Knight-Weasley and Lysander Scamander.

Alabaster's older siblings and parents had long ago departed from this world, but the legacy they had left behind lived on. Their children and grandchildren took excellent care of Alabaster and his wife in their old age, and, although Marie Finnegan-Weasley had been unable to mother children, the two were not lacking any love or care at the end of their long, happy lives.

"Great-uncle Al," Little Rolf tugged at Alabaster's sleeve. "Tell me a story about my grandfather." Alabaster laughed heartily at the young boy, and pulled him over to the grave of his grandfather, Lysander Scamander.

"I didn't know your grandfather all that well, lad." He explained. "At first I thought he was a no-good scoundrel who wasn't worthy of my sister's time."

"But you liked him in the end, didn't you?" Little Rolf looked desperate to hear something good about his grandfather, and Alabaster conceded.

"O'course I did. He was a good man. He'd have loved you very much." The old man poked the boy in his side and was rewarded with a giggle and a mad dash away from him.

"I thought I'd find you out here, my love." Marie cooed, as she came upon her brooding husband several hours later.

"I-I just miss 'em, 'Rie. All of them, I don't feel right being here without them."

"You're not without them. Their spirits remain, Al, they always have. It's like your father always said, their spirits linger in the places and the people that they love. Your father's in that old jokeshop of his, the one Fred's son is running now, and your mother, well, she's probably in that old flat of theirs, the one above the shop, judging all the customers with her demon eyes."

Alabaster laughed at this. His mother had always been particularly fierce and protective, especially when it came to her children's love lives. She never did fully approve of Marie, but had confessed to Alabaster on his wedding day that she had never fully understood her mother-in-law's dislike of her until her own sons brought home their girlfriends.

"Your sister's probably still at Hogwarts, scaring kids and throwing around your dad's old dungbombs or something, and your brother's haunting his old studio, trying to tell whatever poor artist working in there now that he's doing a terrible job at painting portraits.

"I love you, Marie." Alabaster answered simply, in awe, even after over fifty years of marriage that his wife always knew exactly what to say.

"And I love you, you great git. Now come on, Nadine's got dinner in the oven and she'll have kittens if we're not there when it's done." With that, the elderly couple left the old graveyard behind, Alabaster casting one last glance at the graves of his family before turning back to follow after his wife.

He couldn't describe the odd feeling that knotted his stomach, but he was sure it was something akin to excitement mingled with a foreboding sense of dread, the kind of feeling one experiences right before one embarks on an adventure into the unknown.

Soon, he thought, with peace and joy resting in his heart. Soon, he would join his family again. He could already feel his old heart giving out, maybe in a week, or in a month, or even in a years time, Alabaster knew that he'd hear his sibling's argue about insignificant details, see his father's infectious smile and feel his mother's warm embrace again.

He was ready to go home.

 **Fin**


	21. Bonus Chapter 1

_"See it for what it is, not what you want it to be."_  
 _~Sonya Teclai_

The new Azkaban still looked like it was built in hell. There weren't any dementors around, though, and the inmate's cells now included proper beds and were clean. Real food was served, and the inmates were given books to read and quills, ink and parchment to write letters to their families and friends - if those families and friends still wanted anything to do with them.

A visitors center had been set up as well, although it was so rarely used that most were unaware of it.

A heavily muscled man dressed in grey robes that his name had been sewn onto -to identify his status as prison warden- hauled two men behind him as he entered the visiting area.

Felicity sat at a table carved from stone, chewing the skin around her elegantly manicured nails. She wore black, which was nothing new, but she'd forgone her muggle wardrobe, and instead was wearing a set of Ginny's robes- the ones the young witch had worn to her brother's funeral.

The two prisoners were seated in front of Felicity forcefully by the warden, who wore a disapproving scowl on his face.

The three Nott siblings stared at each other in silence, each of them unsure of what to say. The warden left the room and locked the door behind him, no doubt casting a handful of charms to prevent Felicity and her brothers from attempting anything.

"I bet you're enjoying this." Theodore was the first to speak. His eyes were fixated on the scar that twisted his sister's lip and his voice was filled with uncertainty, despite his brash words.

"On the contrary, brother dear," Felicity shot back. "I'd rather be at work. And that's saying something."

"You've finished uni then?" Alabaster asked, and Felicity nodded. "Graduated a few months ago."

"Where do you work?" Theodore inquired, looking very uncomfortable.

"The ministry, actually. Percy Weasley got me a job there."

Both brothers stared at Felicity open-mouthed.

"Percy Weasley?" Theodore sputtered.  
"The bloody Ministry, Felicity?" Alabaster demanded.

"Yes, and yes." She answered quietly. "I work for the Weasley's father, um, the Misuse of Muggle Artifacts office. I'm basically an expert on muggles, you see, and well, it's hard, and it doesn't pay well, but that's alright, because I've got all that money from-"

"Why'd Percy Weasley help you? He's a git, he betrayed the Ministry in the war."

"He's a war hero, actually. Guess you missed a lot, being locked up here-" Felicity shot back, but Alabaster cut off her hot retort.

"She's seeing George Weasley." He explained to his brother.

"What? That filthy blood trai-" he cut himself off. "That idiot couldn't play quidditch to save his bloody life."

"He's good." Was all Felicity said in defense. Alabaster nodded, agreeing.

"She could have chosen worse, mate."

"Besides, you lost all right to dictate anything in my life the day you handed me over to the Ministry." Felicity turned her gaze to Alabaster. "Both of you."

Theodore's expression softened. "You were never supposed to get taken." The man couldn't meet his sister's eyes, and instead focused on her scar. That stupid scar that he had given her. Theodore wondered how many other scars he'd given his sister and just not bothered to notice.

"I know. But I did." She sighed heavily. "I didn't come here to remind you of what you did to me."

Theodore reached over the table and lightly pressed his finger against that stupid scar. "You're a walking reminder, Felicity." He withdrew his hand quickly, before she bit it off. "I'm sorry."

Felicity rolled her eyes, a reaction neither brother expected.

"I'm here to see how you two are."

"Well, were not having our souls sucked out by Dementors, so that's a plus." Alabaster's tone mimicked his sister's when she was especially snarky.

"That's nice. Apparently you got off easy. Both of you. You'll be out in fifteen years, I was told." Both men were grateful that their sister didn't mention that the lack of Dementors was a luxury she wasn't given during her capture.

"That's only if we behave, sister dear." Theodore smirked in such a way that implied that he was not at all behaving well.

Alabaster scoffed at his brother's words. "I'm keeping my head down, staying out of trouble. They've got weekly portrait painting classes that I'm enjoying."

"Yeah, well, not all of us are content to sit and paint, mate. I spend most of my time in the yard doing exercise if I can. Otherwise I'm stuck in my cell."

"Well, I'm glad to hear you're keeping busy." Felicity nodded.

The two brothers exchanged looks with one another, seeming to have a silent conversation, before Alabaster spoke again.

"Felicity, what we did to you, over the years when we were children-"

"It's forgiven. I realized a long time ago that I would be sitting on the other side of this table if I hadn't been born a squib." She shook her head like years of abuse and torture didn't matter.

"Still-" Theodore spoke almost nervously. "We're sorry. Particularly me. I'm sorry. I was awful."

Felicity simply nodded. "Forgiven."

Sensing that the subject was in desperate need of being steered away from the siblings' painful childhoods, Alabaster asked his sister: "How's your George doing then?"

"Oh, he's well. His shops have been booming, especially now that it's almost Christmas time." Felicity explained. Theodore still sat with an uncomfortable expression on his face, however, he was aware that he had never had any right to say anything about his sister's chosen companions.

"That's good." Alabaster nodded. A sort of uncomfortable silence fell between the three siblings, none of them sure of what to say.

That was, until Theodore remembered something very important.

"Felicity, I know very well that you owe me absolutely nothing, but I have a really rather large favour to ask of you."

Felicity'a eyes narrowed in suspicion, but she gestured for her younger brother to go on.

"There's a um...very dangerous thing, that I need you to give back to the ministry." While Theodore said this, he drew his hand across his neck and shook his head.

Felicity got the message. Whatever this thing was, it shouldn't fall into the hands of the ministry.

"Well, where is it then?" She asked, somewhat impatiently.

Theodore described the device, and it's location, and Felicity could do nothing but hope that this damn thing didn't cause more problems in the future.

"Well, Felicity, I hope your life keeps going as well as it is at the moment." Alabaster said, standing up when the warden told them that their time was up.

"Go well, sister." Theodore nodded, sounding a little too mocking for Felicity to believe he was sincere.

After retrieving the item that Theodore had spoken about, Felicity hid it in the folds of her robes, and then returned home, all via use of the Floo Network, which Felicity decided she hated more than she hated apperating.

The flat was almost empty now, as Jan had moved out the week before. Strangely enough, she really missed that mutt of Jan's. Even if he barked through the night.

"Oh good, you're back!" George grinned. "Now we can start packing-" he waved his wand and spoke an incantation. The resulting spell swirled around the flat like a whirlwind and suddenly, Felicity was surrounded by packed and labelled boxes. "Oops, looks like we're all done."

"I hate magic." She growled, but George just laughed and held out his hand. "Shall we go home, love?"

Many years later, Theodore Nott was barely released from Azkaban before he was found guilty of possessing an illegal time turner and sent straight back to the prison.

He was only glad that the thing had been found on his person and not on his sister's. He'd have never forgiven himself if he had caused her even more suffering in her life. Asking Felicity to keep it had weighed heavily on his conscience, but if it had been found by anyone else, the results could have been catastrophic, and heaven knew that the pigs at the ministry wouldn't have known what to do with it back then.

Theodore wasn't entirely sure that they knew what to do with it now, almost twenty years later. But, it wasn't his problem anymore. Malfoy could deal with any repercussions, hell, he should have dealt with them twenty years ago.


	22. Bonus Chapter 2

_"When I get married, you can all wear whatever you like and I'll put mum in a full body-bind curse until it's over."_

 _~Fred Weasley_

"I am being very serious about this, George." Felicity Nott narrowed her eyes at her long-time boyfriend. The ginger-haired man tried his best to keep a straight face, with his lips pressed together in a thin line until his cheeks turned red from the effort.

"Okay, okay, sorry. You were busy accepting my proposal." The one-eared wizard's ill-fitted poker face cracked and his mouth stretched into a wide grin.

"Fine, if you're going to joke about this-" Felicity spun on her heel, making her way towards the door.

"Love, wait!" George grabbed her wrist, stopping her from leaving, and spinning her to face him. His expression morphed to one of horror as his eyes met her stunned expression.

"Did you really just-" The squib began slowly, her tone hard and cold.

"No! I mean- it was a reflex!" George defended, before both of them were in fits of laughter. The couple stood in the middle of Weasley's Wizards Wheezes, which was closed for the night, surrounded by jokes, tricks and pranks that lined the selves of the busy store, laughing for no real reason.

"We are never going to make this look convincing in front of your family, George. We keep reenacting scenes from bad romance novels." Still, the young woman's dark-painted lips curled up in amusement. George grinned at his soon-to-be-fiancé.

"You love my romance novel collection, Fel, don't deny that," He teased. Felicity simply rolled her eyes.

"Out of all the unusual secret hobbies and guilty pleasures one can have- cheep paperback romance novels. It's the weirdest thing about you yet, darling." George laughed at Felicity's disapproving tone, pulling her into him with his hands on her hips.

"We can't all enjoy the depressing poetry of- who's that muggle poet you like so much?" George asked, angling his head to the side in question. Felicity was so short that she had to arch her neck up to look the trickster in the eye.

"Dylan Thomas, love. But that is entirely beside the point. We're supposed to make this stupid proposal look convincing!" Felicity drew away from her beloved's embrace, and faced the shop windows, looking out at the now-deserted late-night Diagon Ally.

"What if you were the one to ask me?" George asked with a wicked glint in his eyes. "Mum would have a fit."

"Isn't that what we're trying to avoid? The whole reason you want to propose to me in some grand, romantic manner is so that your family can get all excited about us wearing fancy clothes, saying stupid vows and signing a piece of paper." Felicity and George had decided to get married a while ago. It had been on the same night Ron had finally proposed to Hermione, after all the celebrations, the two had returned home, and had had a long conversation about marriage and what it meant, and then decided that it was something they both felt ready for.

The problem, however, was George's family. His mother, to be specific. Ron didn't like Felicity either, and Bill was still a bit weary off her, the Nott family had been followers of Voldemort after all, but the main problem was the Weasley matriarch herself. No one could blame Molly for not approving of Felicity, especially not Felicity. George had been in a fragile state after the death of his twin brother and best friend, Fred after the war, and Felicity had come along, with her black clothes and bitter outlook on life, having suffered abuse at the hands of a family that was ashamed to have a squib as a daughter and sister, and had completely captured George's fancy, and very quickly after that, his heart. Felicity was not a nice person, and she was not very easily liked, but George found her prickly personality endearing, even when his mother wished he had found a girl with a warm smile and a good family to keep him happy.

That was the thing about Felicity, though. She understood that it was impossible to _keep_ someone happy. One could only suffer with that person, empathize with them, and come to understand their grief. Saying "Be happy, it's what Fred would want," just didn't cut it. Because what Fred would want didn't change the fact that Fred was gone.

Mrs. Weasley didn't understand that though, and so the couple had agreed to try and appease Molly in any way possible without compromising their relationship or themselves.

Unfortunately, Mrs. Weasley really liked throwing weddings, and so, George and Felicity decided to make her as happy was possible by submitting themselves to the torture that George had already witnessed two of his brothers endure when they brought home their fiancés.

"Felicity Nott," George finally began, "you might not be a very nice person, or a witch, and while you certainly aren't very good at making friends," Felicity narrowed her eyes at George, her expression seeming to ask; *your point is?*, "but, I have fallen in love with you. My family might be overbearing at times, and my mother might be rather...protective, but I am her son, and she will come to love you, simply because I do."

Felicity laughed, something she seemed to do only when she was with George, and shook her head. "That better not have been the final draught of your proposal, love. It's a bit formal and dramatic."

George smiled, and wrapped his arms around Felicity from behind. He ran his fingers through her short honey-colored hair, enjoying the way it caused her body to shiver against his. "I'm being very serious about this Felicity." He whispered, his nose brushing against the shell of her ear. "My mother doesn't need to be impressed by a dramatic proposal, we can just announce that we're engaged the next time we go 'round for dinner. Or we could send an owl now, darling. Let them know that I spontaneously got down on one knee in the middle of Weasley's Wizards Wheezes, and declared my undying love for you. Or, we could just tell them the simple truth. That there was no grand proposal, that we just decided 'You know what? Lets get married.' My family will just have to accept that."

"I know that I'm being silly about this," Felicity spun in George's arms to face him, "but I have no idea what your family expects of me. Of us. They're so...different to what I knew." The only members of her family Felicity still spoke to were her two brothers, Alabaster and Theodore, but they were stuck in Azkaban, and even so, their relationship was rather complicated. The Weasley family's chaotic normality was an entirely different world to Felicity.

George pushed away from Felicity slightly, resting his hands briefly on her shoulders before pulling back, and lowering himself onto one knee, producing a colorful ring from his trouser pocket as he did so.

"Felicity Nott, my family and your family be damned, will you be my wife?"

"If I put that ring on it's going to explode isn't it?" Felicity laughed, cynicism clear in her husky voice as she sat down cross-legged in front of George.

"Actually, it squirts a gooey mixture that changes colour." George sat down on the floor of his shop, laughing at Felicity's expression. "I'll buy you a proper ring, Fel, as soon as I find the right one." He smiled easily.

"With a gem as dark as my soul?" Felicity joked, then squeaked in surprise as George tugged at her side to pull her down. Her head rested on his stomach as they lay haphazardly across the floor of the joke shop.

"Maybe I'll find you a ruby as red as my hair." George ran his fingers down Felicity's sharp nose and traced her lips before pulling back.

"It doesn't matter. I'll wear that stupid joke ring as long as I get to marry you." Felicity murmured, drowsily, the start of a smile tugging at the corners of her lips.

"Of course I'll marry you, love," The wizard told the squib. "That's practically set in stone."

"As long as its not a stone as ostentatious as the stone Ron got Hermione."

"You really don't think very highly of my brother, do you?" George laughed.


End file.
